What Are You Doing New Year's?
by HelenVanPattersonPatton
Summary: What if the conversation between Danny and Mindy had ended differently? A canon adjacent AU. Beginning with Josh and Mindy's Christmas Party, and diverging from there.
1. A Five Year Plan

**Chapter 1 - A Five Year Plan**

**Friday, December 14th, 2012**

Though he'd never admit it, Christmastime brings Danny joy in a way little else does anymore. It isn't like it's some magical time that makes the world seem like a better place. Rotten people are still rotten, trains still don't always run on time, and even at Christmas - maybe _especially_ at Christmas - people still disappoint you.

Even though these truths are unchanging, it stands that Christmas is clearly the best time of year. There's a quality of excitement in the air that's nearly tangible. It's the only time you can walk into a store and hear Sinatra playing. It's closer to the way life should feel. It's traditional. Even mass is better.

The only downside is people expect you to attend things and participate. Who needs to go to twelve different holiday parties in a two week span of time? And gifts! He happily buys something for his mother and brother, but past that it all feels like a waste. Secret Santa is stupid, and despite the many times he's been forced to participate, Danny still has no idea how Dirty Santa is supposed to work. Are they supposed to be gag gifts or not? Most of the time he blows off 90% of the parties he's invited to or comes up with a decent excuse. Yet somehow he gets sucked into Mindy's plans like he always does and ends up toting a very large, very lovingly crafted gingerbread house from Tribeca to Greenwich Village on an unseasonably warm December night.

It's honestly not so bad. For a shining moment he's even glad he came.

Except it can never be as easy as all that, especially when Mindy Lahiri is involved. Josh the skeezy-looking boyfriend turns out, unsurprisingly, to be a cheater. And no matter how much sound advice Danny tries to offer, it doesn't help. It wouldn't be all that big a deal to him, it's just that whenever he looks in her eyes, he sees a heartbreak familiar in a way it makes his stomach clench.

So Danny doesn't leave. Even though he tries. The winter air is cool in his lungs as he stands planted on the sidewalk, watching Mindy run barefooted up the steps of her building. He can't go. Because he knows how she feels, and he can do the one thing no one was there to do for him. He can be there.

He cancels his date, which will probably be the end of that, and after tonight he may be changing his opinion on Christmastime. He will certainly never attending the office Christmas party again, that's for sure.

* * *

Her cheeks are streaked with tears, mascara smudged, and Mindy's got a wild-eyed look about her that scares him while still being better than unbridled hurt from a few minutes ago.

"Danny, promise me," she clutches the leather sleeve of his jacket. "If we're both still single in five years?" His eyes narrow and there's a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, something that feels like dread and something else. "We'll kill each other?"

He exhales hard, and maybe he does have a rattle when he breaths. "Deal."

Danny shakes her hand and can't help laugh. What a stupid thing to have thought.

"What?" she asks.

"Hmm?"

"You're laughing what's so funny? You don't think I mean it? Because I have access to some pretty high-powered drugs, mister."

"No, it's not that. That's just - that isn't what I thought you were going to say."

"Oh? What did you think I was going to say?"

"You know..." Mindy shakes her head and looks back at him with those huge, dark eyes. "Come on, I've seen those movies you watch. I thought you were going to say something crazy. Like if in five years we're both still single we get married or something."

She flinches, just the tiniest bit, but Danny notices. "That is a surprisingly mean thing to say, Danny. Even for you."

"What?! Why is that mean?"

"Because you basically just said it is a worse fate to be married to me than a murder/suicide pact!" She tries to sound like she's joking around, but there are tears shining in her eyes again.

Shit. Why does he have to go and stick his foot in his mouth tonight of all nights? What is he going to say? '_I think it's just as likely for us both to be struck down by lightning and killed right this very instant than it is to picture us married. Sorry again about your boyfriend.'_

"Don't be that way. You know I didn't mean it like that. Didn't I just say a bunch of nice stuff about you?"

"Yeah. Nice, hypothetical stuff. It's fine. You don't have to mean it." This time it's Danny's turn to flinch.

"Hey. Listen." He grabs her fingers and makes her look at him, needing to make her understand more than he can fathom why. "I meant every word. And not just hypothetical or to make you feel better. You're great. Smart, pretty, funny. Any guy would be lucky to have you."

"Yeah?"

"Of course."

"Then why'd you laugh when you thought I was proposing?"

A slightly drunk and very heartbroken Mindy Lahiri proposing marriage to him on her bed. Damn it, he still can't help but smile.

"Okay." She pushes on his thigh with her toes under the blanket. "You're smiling. Just go. Get out of here. Let me wallow in pity alone."

"No. Mindy." He clamps a hand on her wiggling foot through the fabric. "It's just funny to me because I pictured it. For real."

Her lip is starting to quiver and he is doing such a shit job of making this better. Danny thinks about not digging in any deeper and walking away. Instead he blurts, "Think about it."

"It wouldn't be that bad! Sure, we'd have hairy children, but they'd be stupid hot and probably very intelligent."

His stomach twists and doesn't allow himself to think of any child that shares his DNA. Even hypothetically, it's not something he wants to think about. Danny concedes enough he hopes it will end the conversation. "They would be genetically blessed, that's true."

That earns him a genuine smile and he tugs on her hand. "Come on. Party's still going. Don't stay in here; let's go have a little fun.

Mindy looks at him like he's the crazy one now. But she goes.

* * *

They reopen the office on the 27th for two days only before closing again for the New Year, which seems like a complete waste to Mindy. She still comes in, apparently much to everyone's surprise. After an hour this morning spent with cucumber slices over her swollen eyelids, a generous helping of concealer, and the brightest dress she can find pulled hastily from the hanger, she actually looks pretty freaking great, if she does say so herself.

The morning goes more smoothly than she thought it would, filled with only her favorite patients. By lunchtime her face hurts from the forced smile she's worn for hours. There's a knock on her office door and reflexively Mindy forces the corners of her mouth up before seeing that it's just Danny. She drops the pretense and watches as he shuts the door behind himself, a large, white plastic bag in his hand.

"I brought lunch from that place you like."

Mindy's stomach growls at the smell, but after days sustained solely on red wine and chocolate the idea of solid food is enough to make her have to swallow down the acrid taste rising in her throat. "Thanks, but I don't think-"

"It's a thoughtful gesture. You have to at least pretend to eat a little of it. I even got your order right."

Danny begins pulling items out of the sack, and she's intrigued that he even has any idea what she orders from this place. "If you actually got my order right, I'll eat at least some of it."

He grins, setting his tuna salad sandwich aside, and begins displaying each container in front of her like he thinks he's so clever. "Extra large potato soup, no chives. Extra container cheddar cheese. Extra container bacon bits. Bread bowl on the side."

Okay, so he's clever. "I am very impressed, Danny. How did you even know that? We've eaten there, like, once."

"Simple. You always want extra of the things that are going to give you high cholesterol. You're always afraid you're going to have onion breath. And you rant about the idiocies of the basic concept of bread bowl at least twice a month."

"Well that's very thoughtful. And only mildly insulting. Thank you."

Danny shrugs and flops into the chair across from her, immediately digging into his sandwich, stuffing a fourth of it into his mouth on the first bite. She tears a tiny piece off the empty bread bowl and dips an edge into her still-steaming soup. It's hot and maybe tastes better than anything Mindy's ever eaten before, and she crosses her fingers her body won't immediately reject it.

"I happen to agree with you about that," Danny says, mouth still full.

"About what?"

"The whole concept of a bread bowl. It's ridiculous."

"Right?! By the time you've eaten all the soup the bread is all soggy and cold, and if you eat the bread while there's still soup in it, the whole thing becomes structurally unsound. Then bam! A lap full of scalding hot soup! It's such a waste of good bread."

They eat in silence for a few minutes, Danny finishing his sandwich before Mindy can take three bites of her soup. He throws the wadded up wrapper in the plastic bag still sitting on her desk, and stands to go.

"Thank you."

Danny turns from the door, hands on his hips. "What for? Lunch? I think it was my turn to buy anyway."

"Lunch. And for staying the other night. I don't think I remembered to thank you for doing what you did. I really appreciate it, Danny."

"Yeah," he shakes his head. "It wasn't anything. Oh! That does remind me though..." Danny shoves a hand into the back pocket of his jeans and pulls out several sheets of copy paper, folded twice so they fit in his pocket. "No hurry, but I went ahead and filled out my part. I know how long it takes you to get paperwork done." He grins wide. "I figure five years should be plenty of time."

Mindy frowns when he hands the papers to her, noticing his neat block-lettering covering half the first page before seeing the header: New York State Application for Marriage License.

He's down the hall before she can even take a deep breath and try come up with at least a snappy comeback. Mindy doesn't know if she should be irritated - it may be too soon to be joking about this - or find it what it really is: absolutely fucking preposterously hilarious. She does know that for the first time in a week she has a genuine smile on her face.

* * *

**Since I'll probably be asleep, and you and your best friend **

**tier will be, I'm guessing, drunk into oblivion, Happy New **

**Year early.**

**To: Mindy 12:43pm - December 31, 2012  
**

_Au contraire, my friend. (About the friend tier, the drunkenness_

_is a maybe.) Happy New Year. Enjoy going to bed at 9, old man.  
_

_To: Danny 12:45pm - December 31, 2012  
_

**You seriously don't have like 8 of your best friends lined up **

**for ** **a blitzkrieg of alcohol and debauchery?  
**

**To: Mindy 12:49pm - December 31, 2012  
**

_No.  
_

_To: Danny 12:49pm - December 31, 2012  
_

**Are you at home?  
**

**To Mindy 12:57pm - December 31, 2012  
**

_Why?  
_

_To: Danny 12:57pm - December 31, 2012_

* * *

It's a feeling maybe a little too familiar. At least now that she's in her early thirties. It's that universal feeling of intense discomfort combined with regret that comes only from drinking way, way too much. Mindy assesses. She rolls her neck, and her head thumps in time with the beat of her heart. Okay, this is going to be a pretty bad one. She wiggles her fingers and toes; no paralysis. All of her major organs feel relatively functional, save for her liver. That, she would swear, she can feel straining.

The bed Mindy's lying in is comfortable, her face mashed into a nice-smelling feather pillow. She's 90% certain it's her bed she's in, and 75% certain she's in it alone. The alone part tugs momentarily at her gut, and for once it's not because of fucking Josh. There's just something tugging right at the edge of her consciousness that makes her think maybe there was a chance she almost hooked up with someone last night.

Covering her eyes with her hand, Mindy breaks the disgustingly crusty seal of her eyes and peeks through her fingers: no one. She's alone. Thank God. Not that a random hook-up wouldn't be allowed in this situation. She's still well within the "your boyfriend's a cheating slimeball from hell" window where it is still acceptable to do a rando. Not really the way she wants to start the new year, though.

Ugh, New Year's Day. It's supposed to be a time for resolutions and fresh starts. That's a joke. She'll be lucky if she can make it into the shower today, and is already thinking the best course of action, once she can make all of her limbs work, is a pot of coffee followed by a mimosa breakfast.

Mindy drags her hand across her face, willing her head to stop throbbing and rubbing the grit from her eyes. The warm edge of cheap metal scratches the bridge of her nose and her eyes blearily focus on the thin, adjustable band on her finger she doesn't remember putting there. It isn't something of hers because "adjustable jewelry" is not a thing.

Pulling her hand away to get a better look at the too-cheap-to-be-anything-but-rhinestone on the ring finger of her left hand, Mindy starts to remember. With stomach-churning clarity she remembers every single moment of the night before. And she wishes to God she didn't.

* * *

**A/N: This is for rikyl. Because back in May she posted on Tumblr about wanting a Josh and Mindy's Christmas Party AU, and it sent plot bunnies hopping in my head. **


	2. Timelines Are Meant To Be Broken

**Chapter 2 - Timelines Are Meant To Be Broken**

**New Year's Eve 2012**

_The knock on the door scares her more than it should, a day's worth of murder shows making her jumpy. Mindy's nearly positive she knows who it is, although she cannot for the life of her figure out why he's here. Checking the peephole (yeah, she's pretty sure no one put a hit out on her, but one can never be too careful), she opens the door to find the exact, and truly least expected person she thought would be there._

_"Don't make a big deal out of this." Danny breezes past her, uninvited into her apartment. _

_"A big deal about what?" Mindy latches the door behind him and notices the stout bottle of very good Patron Silver in his hand. "Why are you here?"_

_"The better question is, where the hell are all your friends?" He pulls a lime from his pants pocket. _

_"They're -" She swallows hard and reminds herself she doesn't owe the man who just barged into her apartment any explanations. "Respecting my wishes. I told everyone I wanted to just spend a quiet night in. Alone."_

_"Bullshit. Where are your shotglasses?" Danny's opening and shutting cupboards and she's too surprised to do anything but gape at him. He finds them without her assistance. _

_"Here. Oh, you want lime?" he asks, handing her a shot. _ _Mindy shakes her head at him. "Me neither. Cheers." _

_Their glasses clink together wetly, tequila sloshing and running down her fingers. Mindy follows his lead and downs the shot. It leaves a smooth, warm trail all the way down her throat. He takes the empty glass from her and pours another. "What are we doing?"_

_"Right now we're day-drinking. And then once you've had enough to stop lying, you're going to tell me why you don't have plans tonight. And then we're going to make plans. Cheers."_

_They throw the shots back again, and Mindy can't help the smile that twists at her face. It's weird. The whole thing is weird. She pads to the sofa, for the first time becoming conscious of her side-ponytail, yoga pants and over-sized T-shirt. Since it's just Danny she doesn't actually care, but it's not selling her "I'm doing fantastic, nothing to see here" attitude. He follows and takes the other end of the sofa, slinging an arm across the back and setting the tequila bottle on the rug. _

_He's watching her with dark eyes that almost look like he genuinely cares, and it's enough to make her start talking. "I could have had plans, if I wanted. There's a big party tonight my friend Devon is throwing. It's going to be sick."_

_"So... Why the hell are you moping around in your pajamas watching - what is that?" He gestures to the TV where there's a gruesome, poorly acted murder being recreated. _

_She grabs the remote and clicks off the TV. "_Because_. It _sounds_ like fun, and normally it would be. But this year I think I'd rather end up like poor, dumb Gretchen," she waggles the remote towards the dark TV screen, "who didn't know she married an ax-murder than go to this party." _

_"Because?..." _

_"Couples, Danny! It's all couples. All of my friends there, all paired up and in different stages of happiness, all of which will make me want to slit my wrists before the ball drops." _

_"Okay. You don't have any single friends you could hang out with?" _

_"Give Alex until the end of the night, and then maybe." __He shakes his head, not understanding. "She's _this close_ to dumping her boyfriend. Doesn't matter. And no. Not really. And I don't really feel like very good company at the moment, Danny. I was very happy just spending the night in. By myself."_

_"You say that now, but come midnight are you honestly telling me you wouldn't be crying directly into a bottle of wine and missing your piece of crap boyfriend?"_

_"NO!" Mindy shakes her head emphatically, and the two shots of tequila are starting to seep in, a slow-growing warmth in her fingers. Danny's looking back at her in a way that she hates purely because it is so accurately disbelieving. "Okay, fine! That's exactly how that would go. What's the harm in that, Danny? Why not just leave me here to cry into my wine alone? Why are you acting like you care if I have a crappy New Year?" _

_That changes things. He looks away hastily and shrugs. "I didn't have anything going on tonight anyway."_

_"Okayyyyy. God, you are such a weirdo sometimes." _

_Danny picks the bottle up from the floor and uncorks it. "So. What do you want to do today? We've got to come up with something other than just drinking or we'll both be too drunk to even know what decade it is before we get to midnight."_

* * *

_Going to The Golden Unicorn is an excellent idea, if Mindy does think so herself. Since it's only a little after three o'clock when they get there, they make it just in time to still order dim sum. The bottle of something called baijiu they kill is maybe less of a good idea. By the time they make it out onto the sidewalk over an hour later, after consuming an unholy amount of food along with drink, Mindy and Danny are both fully, unrelentingly drunk. _

_She thinks she's carrying it well, even if that may not be accurate. Mindy is walking in fairly a straight line down Worth Street, just on the edge of China Town, and not even slurring her words. The key is the food. It's acting as a buffer, disguising the telltale signs. Give her an hour for it to all settle and she'll be asleep on the nearest flat surface she can find. _

_It isn't hard to tell that Danny is SUPER wasted, even though she's never seen him drunk before. Like her, his speech is clear, if tinged with a much stronger Staten accent than usual, and he's smiling which is extremely weird. He's also touching her pretty freely. It's something he's started doing very occasionally, but this afternoon it's constant; a hand on her back or arm draped over her shoulders. Mindy doesn't mind. It's too cold for the light coat she's wearing, and even in the late afternoon sunshine and the alcohol making her cheeks flush, it feels good having his body leaning heavy and warm into hers. _

_"We should really come up with something else to do," he says, breath warm against the side of her face. _

_"No more drinking. I can't. We need to keep moving, Danny, or I'm going to fall asleep."_

_"Hey! Don't do that." He jostles her hard and there's a scary moment where she's afraid that last steamed pork bun might come back up. _ _Mindy stops haltingly just past the entrance to Columbus Park and swallows hard. _ _"Mindy? You okay?"_

_"I don't think that was wine."_

_"Huh?"_

_"That ba- baij- Whatever it was you ordered. I know the server said it translated to white wine, but I don't think..." She takes another deep breath through her nose and it does a lot to clear her head, the sun ducking behind the large building across the street making it where she doesn't have to squint. _

_"I honestly don't know what any of that was we just had. You're the one who picked the restaurant, remember." _

_Mindy nods slowly and leans further into him, feeling better by the moment, her food settling and the standing still feeling like just what she needs. The whatever it was they drank is numbing her skin and making her want to curl inside Danny's coat with him. She doesn't realize she's closed her eyes until he nudges her, his cheek resting against the top of her head. "I should probably get you home. I think maybe we both overshot the runway a little. Let's just get a cab."_

_She nods her agreement slowly and lifts her gaze up, looking for anything fast-moving and yellow. It's not a cab that catches her eye, though. It's the building across the street. She blinks, making sure she's seeing what she thinks she's seeing, and it's not some alcohol-induced delusion. It isn't and she can't stifle the laugh leaping out of her throat._

_"What?" Danny pulls away from her, his eyes glazed slightly, and the way he's looking at her like she may be crazy only makes her laugh harder. _

_She reaches for the chain of her purse, tugging on it until her fingers find the quilted-leather. It's a small bag, the same one she's been carrying all week, and it doesn't take even a moment looking to pull out the still-half-filled-out document. "We're a little early on our timetable, but..."_

_"Wha-" Mindy can see the exact moment his brain makes the connection between the joke of a marriage license application in her hand and the building before them: _The Office of the City Clerk: Marriage Bureau

_"Well, buddy. What do you say?" She laughs again, and this time it's maybe a little more bitter than she intended. Suddenly she wants to be home, back in her pajamas watching murder shows. This sucks. _

_"Okay." Danny says it so quietly she thinks maybe she imagined it. Her eyes roam his face, waiting for the punchline. Instead, he shrugs._

_"Are - Danny, are you being serious right now?"_

_"Are you?"_

_"No, not really. Are _YOU_?" _

_"No. Of course not. It's just..."_

_"It's just _what_?"_

_"If we're going to do it in five years, might as well do it today, right? I mean, we've already got the paperwork half done, and we're here. I really don't want to have to come back down here later when we can just get it over with right now."'_

_"Danny Castellano, that is the single dumbest thing you have every said. And that's saying a lot. "_Might as well, we're already here."_?! You're insane." _

_"You're right. Let's get a cab." He presses his hand into the small of her back and propels her forward. _

_"Wait." Mindy plants her feet and looks at back him. "You were being for real just now, weren't you?"_

_"No. Forget about it. Let's go." _

_"You WERE. Oh my God. You are actually planning on going through with the whole "if neither of us are married in five years" thing, aren't you?"_

_"Aren't you?"_

_"Aren't YOU?"_

_"Okay, Mindy, we're going in circles. This conversation is making me dizzy. Can we just drop it." _

_"Let's do it," she says, meaning it more than she thinks maybe she should, and also maybe a little bit to call his bluff._

_"Do what?"_

_"Get married today."_

_"Ha. Ha. Point taken. I was being absurd. Let it go for now. You can make fun of me all you want tomorrow. If you even remember this tomorrow."_

_"I always remember everything, thank you. And now I'm the one being serious. This has been a truly shit year, Danny. I'm tired. I don't want to do it anymore. Let's just tie the stupid knot. Then I can at least register at some nice department stores and make all the thousand stupid people I know who I'VE had to buy presents for actually get _me_ something for a change. Plus we would get some pretty sweet tax breaks. It's time for me to face facts: I'm never going to find anybody remotely decent who doesn't cheat on me. And you're clearly too broken and are never going to get married again. Your acquiescing so quickly is proof of that."_

_Danny blinks at her but doesn't seem to be able to form an argument. _

_"Well?" _

_"I'm thinking," he says._

_"Right. Of course. Big moment. Take your time. I will point out that you are the one who's already filled out the marriage license application..." _ _There's a steady stream of people walking past them in both directions, jostling them closer together, then further apart. The look on Danny's face never alters, a deep crease in his forehead. _

_Mindy sighs and sees a cab with its light on headed in their direction. She takes a step closer to the curb and raises her arm. It's pulling up to them when she feels her hand being tugged down, Danny's fingers sliding around her palm. _

_If she had to guess, she'd say her face probably looks the same as his at that moment; wide-eyed and shocked, but decisive. _

_Holy shit. They're getting married._


	3. As Hangovers Go

**Chapter 3 - As Hangovers Go...**

**New Year's Day 2013 - Days Married: 1**

Oh God. Mindy struggles upright, tugging hard on the ring binding her finger. It's being a bitch and won't come off. How does an adjustable ring get stuck? Her phone is not on her nightstand or anywhere tangled in the bed sheets, although she does find that bra and pack of Sour Straws she'd been looking for. She staggers from the bed, hoping her phone is in her purse. And hoping her purse is somewhere in her apartment.

A rogue edge of the sheet is somehow wrapped around her ankle and before she can tug it free and keep her balance steady she falls, her knee hitting the rug hard, the carpet burning her. Mindy's outstretched palms smack the hardwood just beyond the rug and she yelps in as much surprise as pain. Impotent tears burn her eyes for no other reason than she can't control anything right now, including her own tear ducts. Her whole body pulses like an exposed nerve.

As she hangs there, foot still caught up and hands planted in some kind of messed up looking downward facing dog, Mindy hears a groaning coming from the living room followed by dull thumb and sharp curse.

There's somebody in her apartment.

Mindy screams, of course. Who wouldn't scream when clearly, on what is already rapidly becoming one of the worst days of her life, there turns out to be a murderer in her home?

"What the hell? Can you please keep it down in-" Danny stands in the doorway of her bedroom, rubbing the base of his palm in his eye-socket, nothing on but very-tighty whities. Which from her angle looking up from the floor leaves little to the imagination. "What are doing down there?"

"Oh my God, Danny. I can see your penis! Get that thing out of my face!" As a reflex she throws a hand over her eyes, her balance faltering when she does and she slides down even further, Mindy's shoulder smacking the floor. It will probably leave a bruise, but at this moment it feels worth it not to have the underside of his junk thrust in her face.

"How did you get so tangled? Jeez," he sighs, and she can feel the pads of his fingers against the sole of her foot as he unwinds the sheet. Finally freed, she tumbles the rest of the way to the floor, her over-sized T-shirt flying over her torso. Mindy hastily jerks it down before she can flash him her boobs, the granny panties she likes to sleep in being modest enough that she's not all that worried about her lower half.

When she gets herself situated and returns her attention to him, she finds Danny sitting on the edge of her bed, eyes squeezed tight and hunched forward, palms on his knees and knuckles white. "Danny? Danny. You look like you're going to hurl. Please don't puke on my rug. It's imported from Shangri La or somewhere, made by blind orphaned nuns or something. It probably cost more than the home you grew up in."

Slowly he shakes his head. "Not going to be sick. Just moved too quick."

Well, that's something Mindy can relate to. So not to be a hypocrite, she pulls the duvet from where it's barely clinging to the bed and covers herself before asking, "You're still basically naked. Can you maybe..."

That gets his eyes open, flashing down to his crotch before tugging the top-sheet over his lap, the excess fabric fisted at his waist. "I am . . . exceptionally . . ."

"Hung over?"

"That. Maybe more like the embodiment of death. How much did we drink last night?"

"Volume? Surprisingly little. But you do remember that Google search you did on my phone, right? Oh! Have you seen my phone?"

"I don't know. I don't remember any search. Shit, I'm not sure I remember my name."

"Well, it turns out that bottle of "white wine" you ordered with our fashionably late dim sum lunch was basically grain alcohol, which explains - wait. How much do you remember?"

Danny squints and there's a feeling of dread bubbling up in her stomach, mixed with a truly perverse kind of excitement. Because if he doesn't remember, that means she gets to be the one to tell him. It's twisted, yet somehow it makes her feel better. "I remember coming here and doing shots. And I remember you taking approximately two hours to get ready to go out."

"Okay, it took me forty-five minutes, tops. Which is actually a land speed record for me to get that level of glammed up, thank you."

"Yeah, good for you then. Dim sum. I remember it was surprisingly delicious, because judging from the way that place looked I was skeptical. It was like some gilded Asian nightmare."

"Danny Castellano: Skeptic. There's a shocker," she mutters.

"Yeah. That's it."

"Soooo, that's honestly all you remember? Seriously?"

He closes his eyes again, his whole face looking puffy and lax. "Mm, yeah. Why?"

Mindy's mouth opens and closes a few times, unsure when it comes to it how she actually says the words to him.

"Oh God, it's bad, isn't it? Just tell me. Did you talk me into getting some weird tattoo or something? What did you get me into?"

"Excuse you? This was your doing, buddy. Although, I was more of a willing participant that I would care to admit. Not as permanent as a tattoo, though. Not quite."

He scrubs a hand across his jaw and she can actually hear the stubble scratching his skin. "Just-"

"It's no big deal, Danny. We'll just have to do a little bit of paperwork and then it will be like it never happened," she tries to infuse as much cheer into her voice as possible.

"Like WHAT never happened, Mindy?"

"Plenty of perfectly nice, dateable guys have been divorced twice by the time they're in their mid-forties."

* * *

The hangover is messing with his hearing. Because it sounded a little bit like she just said-

"Holy shit." He's going to puke on her precious goddamned rug.

"There you go, man." She pats his knee through the sheet in a way he thinks she must intend to be comforting. "It coming back to you a little now?"

There are flashes, grey, terrifying flashes of the two of them in an official-looking building; of an argument over something stupid that he still feels like was important to him, and then - Oh. That's the clearest of all the nightmare/memories; it's Mindy standing in front of him with a sprig of sad flowers in one hand, and the other hand is in his.

"We didn't. Mindy - tell me we didn't?"

There's a fracture in what has so far been a pretty believable brightness, her shoulders slumping as she drops back to rest against the nightstand. "We did. You and me. Hitched."

"That's-" His brain rushes to figure this out. Not even the why - it's twisted, but he at least remembers the stupid conversations and jokes that led up to it, plus they were stupid drunk - but the how. How would the state of New York allow this to happen? "Well, it's not valid. We were drunk. Very drunk. So it doesn't count."

"That is very true; we were hammered. But it doesn't matter. We make very believable sober people, Danny. And we signed everything saying we were of sound mind, blah, blah, blah."

"The waiting period!" he shouts, and the words pierce his own ears. Mindy flinches. "When I got married, like married-married for real, there was a waiting period. We had to drop off the paperwork together, both of us, and then go back after a 24 hour waiting period. It's a failsafe so stupid, drunk assholes don't end up married."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. I included myself in that, by the way, so don't get too offended. Anyway, see? You must not be remembering the rest of it. There's no way we could have actually gone through with it." Just saying the words makes relief wash through him so hard it somehow makes even his hangover feel better.

"Janet Markaway."

Mindy's got her mouth in a serious line, like she thinks she's actually saying something meaningful. "What? Who are you talking about?"

"Janet Markaway, Danny."

This time it does spark something, but for the life of him he can't come up with whatever connection she's trying to make. "Okay, Janet Markaway. She's - she's a patient of mine." Danny narrows his eyes and tries to remember her medical history, as if that could possibly be relevant. "One kid. A daughter. I think I delivered her right after my residency... Last year she had a cancer scare and had a full hysterect-"

"JUDGE Janet Markaway."

"Oh shit."

"Yup."

"You called my patient?! That's completely inappropriate, Mindy, even for you!"

"I'M not the one who called her!"

Judicial Waiver. He shouldn't know those words... "I called her."

"You did."

"I can't believe I called a patient, drunk, to ask a personal favor," he groans, his eyeballs starting to throb. "Wait. Did she have to-"

"Come down there to sign the paperwork? Yes. But she said she was nearby and seemed genuinely happy for us. She even stayed to be our witness." Mindy shrugs.

It's too much to remain seated on the edge of the bed, too high up and he's a little afraid he may tip over onto the floor. He slides down, the sheet draping over one shoulder like a toga, and sits eye-level with his - oh, Jesus.

Danny hangs his head, already knowing the answer to the question. "I hugged her, didn't I?"

"A lot. For a really long time. An uncomfortably long time."

"Yeah." He closes his eyes and leans his head back against the soft mattress. So. He and Mindy got married. It's not the most preposterous - fuck. Yes it is. Mindy Lahiri is legally his wife. On a list of least likely, most preposterous things that could be fathomed, that is easily in the top five. Right after going back in time to get to see Mickey Mantle play ball, and right before being asked to play keyboard in the E Street Band.

It's the longest he's ever noticed her being quiet, and Danny cracks an eyelid open to make sure she's still awake. Mindy got the side of her face resting against the mattress, same as him, and her eyes are open, staring vacantly out the window into the late-morning sunlight of a new day. A new year.

Okay. This will be okay. It's not like it was anything other than a ridiculous, unfortunately well facilitated mistake. They'll just get an annulment. It isn't like they -

"Did we have sex last night?" His voice creaks as he nearly chokes on the words.

"Yes. I rocked your world. You said I was the best you ever had. It was so good for you, you actually cried."

"Oh, thank God." Mindy's head whips toward him, eyes flared, completely misconstruing his meaning. "Come on. Clearly you're full of it. It's good."

"This is why you can't keep a wife, Danny. You say some seriously mean shit to your wives. Your first ex-wife and I are going to have to start a club."

"Okay, that is seriously not funny. And what? It's mean because I'm relieved we didn't have drunken sex to consummate this Godawful sham of a marriage?"

"Yeah, alright. Learn to take a joke, man. Wouldn't mind meeting your first ex-wife, though. That would be super-weird, and probably a lot of fun."

"Trust me, you wouldn't say that if you knew her. Or, at least if you'd ever been married to her."

"Fair enough. I'll settle very happily for being your favorite former wife." Mindy's smiling openly at him now, and it's so ridiculous it is actually enough to make him attempt a smile back. "Now what? You've done this before. Do we just call one of those numbers from the subway ads for cheap, no-contest divorces?"

"No. No divorce."

She kicks his thigh hard with her foot, bare toes cold against his skin. "Well, we sure as hell aren't trying to "make it work" just because you're too prideful to have been divorced twice, you freak."

"Stop. Will you stop?" Danny grasps her foot through the sheet and the memory of doing this exact same gesture at the Christmas party, just a little over a week ago, flashes. He would have never believed it had he known then what he knows now. "We'll dissolve it, don't worry. I just can't get a divorce."

"Why not? You've already done it once. At this point you should get a discount or something."

"Ha. Ha. And no, actually. I've never been divorced."

"Oh my God, Danny! You're a bigamist?! I knew you were hiding some weird secret, but I just figured you had a gross fetish or something. This is way worse. How many of us are there?"

"Would you stop? I'm not a bigamist." Jeez, this woman. Mindy's still giving him her best overly dramatic side-eye and he can't help adding. "And in the eyes of God we're not really married, so you're just going to have to wonder about what fetishes I'm into."

Her mouth drops open, chin all the way down to her chest, and he can't help the smirk that plays across his lips before closing his eyes and resting his head back again. Danny can hear her snort a barely repressed laugh before it evens out into steady breaths. His hand is still on her foot. Under the heat of his touch her toes are warm now.

Danny takes a deep breath and forms the best course of action he can wrap his addled mind around, and he stands. "We'll get an annulment. That's what I did before." She opens her mouth like she wants to ask questions, but suddenly he can't. He needs to get out of here. "It should be pretty simple, considering. Since it's my second there may be a few more hoops to jump through, but it really shouldn't be more than some paperwork. At most we'll have to go before a judge. I'll handle as much of it I can on my own."

Mindy's looking up at him, mouth now firmly clamped shut and eyebrows only slightly raised.

"I should go home." He keeps the sheet wrapped around himself, and she pushes up to follow him as he walks to the living room. "Have you - do you see my clothes?"

She finds them shoved, wrinkled beyond decency, under the sofa. He takes a minute in the bathroom getting dressed avoiding his eyes in the mirror. Mindy's standing by her front door waiting for him, the same over-sized T-shirt and yoga pants on that she was wearing when he showed up the day before. The only addition is the fake, plastic ring on her finger, the one he doesn't remember putting there. "I'll - um. I'll get everything started. Like I said. Okay?"

"Yeah." She nods.

"Right. See you back at the office tomorrow then." His hand's on the doorknob, but it feels like he should do or say something. What is the correct thing manners-wise in this situation?

Mindy handles it for him, pressing her cheek fleetingly against his with a smack of her lips that never actually touches his skin. "Thanks, Danny. For handling it. And for yesterday, too. Not the whole - you know. But for coming over and trying to cheer me up. Until we decided to get married, it was kind of a great New Year's Eve."

"Um," he opens the door and suddenly feels a little weird leaving her here alone like this. "You're welcome. I guess."

Mindy closes the door behind him, and he waits, listening to make sure she flips the deadbolt and latches the chain. She does. He stands there for another minute before walking to the elevator, this time not sure what it is he's listening for.


	4. Keep Your Friends Close

**Chapter 4 - Keep Your Friends Close**

**Saturday, January 12th, 2013 - Days Married: 13 **

"I need you."

Danny pulls the phone away and looks at the caller ID, just to be sure, before pushing it back to his ear. Rolling the stool he's sitting on further away from the exam table, he bites back a smirk. "Who is this?"

Mindy huffs into the phone. "I need you to come over and help me with something. It's important."

"What?"

"Um, it's kind of a carpentry project. You look like you've built things before."

"No, Mindy. I'm with a patient right now."

"Then why'd you answer your phone? And why are you working on a Saturday?"

"I, unlike some peo-" he starts.

"Doesn't matter. Come over as soon as you're finished with this appointment." Danny doesn't have a chance to reply before the line goes dead.

* * *

She has to duck her head a little to sit on the bottom bunk next to him. "I'm _so_ gonna score godmother points with this thing. Thank you so much for helping me with this, Danny."

He turns to her, eyebrows raised, and she amends her comment. "Thank you for_ single-handedly_ assembling the bunk bed for me, you narcissist. God, sometimes you're the worst."

"Good job with the compliment. Thanks."

There's a hint of a smile on his lips, and she tucks her leg under her and turns toward him. Curiosity has been tugging at her ever since he brought it up earlier, and she can't resist asking about it now. "So you seriously raised your little brother?"

"Oh." He looks surprised. "Um, well, yeah. Kinda. Not completely by myself or anything, we had our ma around." She nods and hopes that's enough to get him to continue. "She had at least two jobs, though. Sometimes three. So there was a lot of time just the two of us. Plus he's a lot younger than me-"

"So he's around my ag-"

"Don't say it." He holds his hand out, cutting her off. "We're not having this argument again. No, he's nine years younger than me. I don't know - it wasn't anything special. I just tried to do good by him."

"Like how?"

Danny shrugs and mirrors the way she's sitting so that he's leaned against one of the posts, facing her. "Teach him things. How to throw a baseball. Not get his ass kicked at school. I don't know - make sure that when Ma was working nights there was a decent supper cooked and help him with his homework."

"Aw, Danny. That's really sweet." She splays her fingers across his knee. "Is that why you don't want kids? Because in a way it already feels like you've been there, done that?"

He crosses his arms over his chest, the sleeves of his T-shirt straining. "I never said I didn't want kids."

"Oh." She just assumed. Honestly Mindy can picture him clearly with a brood of grumpy little brats who all look just like him, Danny's hair grey from finally getting back ten-fold everything he's ever dished out. She'd pay to see that, actually. "So you want kids. Why don't you have any then?"

"I don't - You know that's very personal. Why do you even care?"

"Never said I cared. I'm just curious. And don't avoid the question."

He huffs out a breath, lips pursed, and there's a moment she thinks he's going to evade again. "There was a time when I did want kids, but I'm not sure that's something I want anymore. Plus it's not like I'm really in a position for that."

"So your wife didn't want kids? And now you're too old? Is that it?"

He grins, and there's a little mischievousness hiding behind it. "Which wife?"

"Ugh," she groans, burying her face in her hands. "That's gross. Don't bring me into this; I'm not having your babies. Oh! You did start the annulment paperwork, right?"

"No, and no."

"What does that mean? Are you going to hold me hostage as your wife until I agree to let you impregnate me? Because that's not going to happen, buddy. I was not serious about us having genetically blessed, hairy children."

"No, I haven't started the annulment paperwork yet. But it's only been like a week, so calm down. I'll start on it as soon as I have an off day. And no," he says a little more hesitantly. "Christina didn't want children."

"Oh. And you did? Is that why you two got divorced?"

"Partly. We wanted different things, in a lot of ways, and it was too much. It pulled us apart. That," he tips his head like he's unsure how to phrase what he's about to say, "and it had a lot to do with me finding her having sex with someone else in our bed."

"_Oh my God, Danny_. Are you serious?"

He nods and doesn't look at her. "That was pretty much that." A dark smile slowly paints his face that is nearly painful to behold. "Good thing we didn't have those kids I wanted, huh?"

Damn. Suddenly a bunch of jokes she's made about his wife leaving him feel a lot more mean-spirited than she meant them. Mindy reaches forward, grabbing his hand and hoping a few trite words will cover a number of ills. "I'm sorry."

He squeezes her fingers back and finally meets her eyes again. "Thanks."

She means to say something else, means to move her hand. Somehow whatever it was she intended has evaporated. It can't even be as long as a minute, but they stay like that until there's a knock on the door.

* * *

Mindy pushes onto her tiptoes, stretching to reach the wineglasses.

"So, you and Riley seemed to actually have a nice evening. Just the two of you."

Corking the bottle of decent red after pouring a generous amount in each glass, she narrows her eyes at her friend. "You mean that to sound like a compliment, but I hear the skepticism in your tone. For the record, things were a little touch and go at the beginning, sure. But it turns out I have a very natural rapport with children. Your kid loves me."

"There was never any doubt in that. I am glad, though, to see you two bonding. You should spend more time together, just the two of you. It will be good experience for when you finally get off your ass and make me a godmother."

Mindy snorts into her wineglass before taking a gulp.

"What? You roll your eyes at me every time I suggest you spend bonding time with my daughter. It isn't about free childcare, Mindy," she says before muttering. "Not always, anyway."

"No, no, Gwen. It's not that. Just reminded me of something Danny and I were talking about earlier. You're right. I should put in more time being Cool Aunt Mindy."

"Thank you, yes. You should." They wander from the kitchen and take opposite sides of the sofa so they can both stretch out, legs aligned and feet at the others' hip. "I'm not sure I see it, by the way."

"Hmm? See what?" Mindy picks at the edge of a throw pillow.

"You've told me some of the stuff he's said to you before - which I still agree is terrible - but honestly Danny didn't seem like all that much of a jerk to me."

"Ha! Get to know him better." There's a sick, tugging feeling in the pit of her stomach as soon as the words are out of her mouth and Mindy takes a long sip of her wine. "That's - I don't mean that. Did I call him a jerk?"

"That. And several other, more colorful things. The rant at our 4th of July picnic last year was especially vulgar."

She remembers the picnic... but no. Mindy doesn't have any memory of some supposed rant, well-articulated or otherwise.

"Do you really not remember this? I had to lie to my child and tell her a douche nozzle was an attachment for the garden hose."

"Are you sure I said that? Because - and I'm being honest here Gwen, because I love you - but sometimes you can be a little dramatic about remembering things."

"_YES!_ I cannot believe you're sitting here telling me that you have no recollection of - no. No." Gwen wiggles the fingers of her right hand, still partially wrapped around her wineglass, in the air between them. "I'm not doing this. Let's start over." She clears her throat and takes a deep breath, her voice soft and even when she speaks again. "Your coworker Danny seems like a fairly nice guy."

"Eh," she shrugs. "Sometimes he can be a real jerk."

Mindy shrieks and has to duck to miss the pillow chucked at her face, Gwen somehow managing impressive dexterity with her left arm despite the cast. The deep-red wine in her glass comes dangerously close to splashing. "I'm kidding! Stop. He's not a jerk. Every once in a while he will say jerk-like things, sure, but he's actually a pretty decent guy. He even rescheduled his last two appointments today to come build the bunk bed."

"Not a jerk," Gwen nods. "Also not a very good carpenter."

"No," she laughs. "He needs to work on his bolt-tightening skills apparently. I don't know. He's been surprisingly nice recently." She's not sure what changed. Mindy shakes her head and tries to pinpoint just exactly when a man she couldn't stand became her friend. "You know the whole Josh-cheating-on-me/Christmas-party-debacle? Danny canceled his date that night to stay for the rest of the party and cheer me up."

"See? That's a very thoughtful gesture. Maybe you were wrong about him."

"Gwen, I'm never wrong. You know this. Yeah, though. Maybe he's changed. I don't know. He did come over New Year's Eve so I wouldn't have to spend it alone." Mindy pushes her toes into the crevice of the sofa cushion.

"That's thoughtful. And he was very helpful getting me in immediately to see a doctor at the hospital tonight. Which I think being there may have worked out well for him, actually. He was getting this obnoxiously pretty, one-eyed girl's phone number when I came out."

"She only had _one eye_?" Mindy leans forward a little, her interest piqued. "She must have been _amazing_ looking to offset that."

"Mm, I'm assuming she has both of them, there was just a patch so I couldn't tell. But even if there was a Kill Bill type situation under there, I still think she wouldn't have a hard time finding guys to date."

"Lucky." Mindy casts her eyes down and wonders what it says about her frame of mind when she's jealous of the dating prowess of a hot, maimed woman. Not every man can be like Josh, though. Right? Sure the last two serious relationships she's been in resulted in cheating and public humiliation, but she refuses to let that quash the dream of finding Mr. Right. Mindy refuses to die a lonely, beautiful spinster. Although...

"So, I forgot to mention, Danny and I are actually, kind of... married."

Gwen nods thoughtfully, taking the news surprisingly in stride. "I guess I can see that with you two. He did help you build the bed. Although I've never really understood the whole "work-married" thing. What is it? Like, there's no sex and you fight about the same stupid things over and over - like it's _that_ hard to put your coffee cup in the dishwasher instead of just _SETTING IT IN THE DAMN SINK?" _Gwen takes a breath. "- but at the end of the day you're still partners? Because that does _not_ sound dissimilar to a real marriage."

"Hmm. That is, surprisingly, accurate. But no." Mindy stretches forward precariously to snatch her phone from the coffee table. Scrolling quickly through the photos, she comes to the few she took that afternoon. Most are blurry shots of whatever random thing seemed important at the time that no longer makes sense. There are a few clear ones, and Mindy stops on a selfie of the two of them. They're in the hallway outside of the chapel, standing in front of the black and white mural of the Marriage Bureau Building, only the top part of the dome visible. Danny's almost smiling, his eyes heavy lidded and looking off somewhere just beyond the camera, and Mindy is duck-facing while still trying to project radiance, her eyes shining like glass. There is just enough showing of the marriage license they're holding up to be able to read what it is.

She shoves the phone toward Gwen.

"Is that a- _Oh my-_ _ ARE YOU SHITTING ME?!" _Gwen twists, reaching over her cast to set her glass on the table and then grabbing the phone from Mindy's hand._ "_You are actually _married_ to this guy? How the hell could you not tell me?"

"Well, it didn't seem-"

"And why wasn't I invited? _Mindy?_ What the hell is going on and why are being so nonchalant about your husband picking up blind women at the hospital?"

"Because it isn't _real._" This seemed apparent to Mindy when she started this conversation. Maybe she left out some important details.

"Okay, Mindy. Lying randomly about marrying someone? That is slightly messed up. Even for you." Gwen tosses the phone onto Mindy's lap and gets up.

"Hey. That's not a very nice thing to say to your best friend. And I didn't mean it come to out that way. We _are_ married. Technically. He just. . . isn't my husband." She follows Gwen into the kitchen and does as her friend and refills her glass.

"Okay, then. Fine. Let's back up. You're married to him, but he's not your husband? You kept it a secret for how long? And you have no problem with him picking up other women? What the hell even is that?"

"When you put it that way it - well - it sounds only slightly more strange than what it actually is. It was just a mistake. We were very drunk. And shockingly well organized and connected. And yeah. We got married on New Year's Eve."

"Unbelievable."

"It is, really. And it _especially_ was for Danny, because he is _not_ a good drunk-rememberer."

"No. _You_'re unbelievable. And I know, okay, I understand everything that happened with Josh, and that he was a class-A asshole. But instead of spending the night with all your friends who love you, you get loaded and marry a guy from work you barely like?"

"Well-"

"This is why we don't set you up anymore, Mindy. You say you have your life together and then you do things like this. It's one extreme to another. Either you say you're blissfully happy and everything in your life is perfect. Or you go completely off the rails and do something idiotic like this."

Tears sting the backs of her eyes, and Mindy wonders why in the hell she thought it was a good idea to tell Gwen about this in the first place. She should know better by now. And she can't put her finger on what hurts more: her best friend's unbridled contempt, or the truth underlying all of it? Swallowing hard, she tries to pull it together enough to not be the mess she's accused of being. Because her instinct right now is to either lash out and defend herself in the most pain-inflicting way, or storm out. But it's her apartment and Mindy refuses to give Gwen the satisfaction and prove her point for her. She did that at Thanksgiving and it's time for a new tact.

"You're right. It was stupid and irresponsible. It'll be over, like it never happened, just as soon as Danny's done with the annulment papers." She takes a dainty sip, even though she wants to drain the glass, and finally meets her friend's gaze. "And look on the bright side. You can add this to all the many other "Mindy's Such A Train Wreck" stories."

Gwen's eyes soften slightly, but she doesn't correct her.

* * *

**A/N:** In honor of this being TMP premiere week (or as some of us very ladylike dames refer to it: We Fuck Tuesday), I'm saying screw my posting schedule. Chapter five will be up some time before Tuesday.


	5. Just Desserts

**Chapter 5 - Just Desserts**

**Saturday, March 9th, 2013 - Days Married: 68**

It finally makes sense when she leans in closer where she's seated next to him at the table, her voice low and conspiratorial. "So, Mindy told me about your... _situation_."

Danny reaches for his beer, his eyes darting around the restaurant. "Situation?" He tries for nonchalance, but the croak in his voice gives him away.

"That you two are -" Gwen mouths the word _married_.

_Shit._ "Listen. That's not-"

"No. I know. She explained everything."

Danny nods, trying to imagine just exactly how Mindy explained something so inexplicable to her friend. Hell, _he_ doesn't even have all the details. Maybe he should ask Mindy about it. The scant, ephemeral flashes are barely enough to construct what feels like a long forgotten dream. "Who else has she told?"

"No one." Gwen sweeps the wavy length of blonde hair over her shoulder. "Not that I know of, anyway."

"Good. It's nobody's business."

"Of course not. I didn't mean to insinuate-"

"No, I know." Danny glances at his watch and wonders how much longer it will be before the birthday girl shows up. "So that's why you enlisted me to help with all this?"

"Hmm, not that specifically. I figured clearly you're friends, and you could easily coordinate everything with all of the people from work." She shrugs, a smile starting to play at her lips. "Plus you were very thoughtful taking me to the ER and waiting for me. Even though it was sort of your fault."

"Hey, that bed was obviously defect-" He cuts his eyes back to her, and she's covering a smile with a crooked finger. "Yeah, okay. Sorry again about that."

"It's fine. No permanent damage." Gwen straightens her left arm out, fingers waggling as proof.

Even though it was an accident and the bed _could_ have been defective, it stupidly makes him feel better. Something else she said he can't help lingering on. "She told you we're friends?"

"I don't know if she actually used those words exactly, but yeah. Are you not? I mean you are apparently friendly enough to spend major holidays together. And, ya know," she drops her voice, "_to get married_."

Right. There is that. "Yeah. I guess we're friends. I just never thought about it in those terms. More like co-workers who hang out sometimes."

"What you're describing is friends."

Danny takes another pull from the beer bottle. He wouldn't have labeled them as that, but he can think of a lot of worse things than having Mindy as a friend.

He thinks that up until the moment Mindy gets her panties in a wad and storms out of her own birthday party like a child. Sometimes she is so insufferable he isn't sure he'll ever be able to understand her. Or if he wants to. Still, it doesn't stop him from following her.

* * *

"What the hell is your problem?"

She doesn't bother slowing her pace, continuing to clomp down 19th Street and spitting the words over her shoulder. "Do you have to ask? It seems like you all know exactly what's wrong with me, in detail. And you felt the need to point every one of those shortcomings out to me _at my birthday party_."

"Come on! Even you can't be that much of an ungrateful brat."

She stops hard and turns on her heel, Danny nearly crashing into her. "Why are you following me?"

He throws his hands up like it should be obvious, but he doesn't actually form any words.

"Go back to the restaurant, Danny." Mindy walks away again, not knowing where she's headed, but wanting to be anywhere else. Her strides are as long as they can be. The crisp air burns in her lungs when she sucks in a breath, and it makes her feel, if not better, at least different than she did in the savory air of the restaurant.

She winds around scaffolding, weaving in and out of the flow of slower foot-traffic, making it all the way to 7th Avenue before she feels his fingers wrapping tightly around her wrist. "Wait. Just wait, would you?"

Danny moves in front of her, blocking the way. She jerks free from his grasp to cross her arms over her chest and waits for him to spit out whatever it is so she can finally put this whole debacle of a night behind her. "_What?_"

"Don't be like this, Mindy. Your friends did a nice thing for you."

"How is this a nice thing?"

"Why? Because you didn't like your gifts? That's ridiculous! How do you not see how petty that is?" There's light from a lamppost on the corner giving him a halo, which she thinks he would probably find fitting.

"They're hurtful. Okay? I basically just had everyone I know call me a fat loser to my face on a night where I really thought I was going to just have a nice dinner with some guy and forget that everything they're saying about me is true." Danny closes his eyes a moment, and when he opens them he's staring past her. "Look, I don't expect you to understand. Stop pushing it."

She's able to side-step him just in time to catch the light at the crosswalk. This time when his hand circles the top of her arm, she doesn't even bother trying to shake him off. They're nearly to 8th Avenue before he speaks again.

"I do understand. At least a little." Mindy clicks her tongue in a scoff. "What? You think I've never been picked on?"

"No. Right. Of course you have. This world is a cruel place for hot, single men who also happen to be doctors. I should be more sensitive to your plight."

That stops him in his tracks, the grasp he still keeps on her arm halting her as well. "You think I'm hot?"

"Oh my God. _Seriously_?" There's a grin sweeping up one side of his face. "_That's_ what you're taking away from this?"

"No. Not entirely. It is nice you're finally acknowledging you think that." The grin has made its way fully across his face, teeth showing and a glint in his eyes. It makes him look boyish and it distracts her from kinda wanting to slap him.

Under the scrutiny of her scowl, Danny shakes his head, the smile disappearing from his face instantly like a drawing on an Etch-A-Sketch. "No. That's not what I'm taking away from this."

Shaking off his hold, Mindy takes a few steps back, out of the flow of people. He follows her so they're somewhat out of the way, tucked against the wrought iron railing surrounding the gated steps of a brownstone.

"Listen." He strokes a hand in his hair. "I'm not saying I know what you're feeling right now. Me getting my ass kicked all of 6th grade because I took dance lessons, or _still_ having the nickname Little D are two differ-"

"_Little D_? That's adorable, Danny. And you took _dance_?!" Those two tidbits of information are the best gifts she's gotten all night.

"Shut up," he says, lacking all malice. "The point is - I know what it's like to get picked on. To feel like the butt of a joke. It's shitty and I'm sorry you feel like that's what everyone was doing."

She nods imperceptibly, blinking hard and wishing he wasn't being nice to her. Being angry was better. Now she's starting to feel the real ache of hurt feelings, and that's so much worse.

"If it makes you feel better, Min, I don't think it was intentional."

"It's not even so much like they're laughing at me." She swallows and is pissed that her voice sounds so small. "More like, I don't know. . . judging me. Pitying me. Like some sad-ass cookbook or exercise machine is going to be just the thing to solve all my problems and stop me from being such a freaking screw up."

"Hey. Why would you think that? You're not a screw up."

She shrugs. "I married you."

"Thanks a lot!"

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I know." Danny almost smiles before laying a hand lightly on the sleeve of her coat. "So you made one stupid, drunken mistake. Who hasn't?"

"I'm just - I'm tired of being the unpredictable one who can always be counted on to provide drama."

"I thought you lived for drama," he says cheekily and waggling her arm, trying surprisingly hard to cheer her.

"Yeah, _sometimes_. Occasionally. But to be honest, it's a lot better watching drama unfold from the cushy sidelines with your gorgeous, successful boyfriend than it is to be in the middle of a crazed, ginger windmill."

"You projecting a little bit from the Christmas party?"

"Maybe."

"Listen, you're fine. So you've gone through a little bit of a rough time. Things will get better, and no amount of microwave cooking or body pillows is going to make it happen any faster. Your friends know that." His fingers run up to cup her elbow. "Instead of thinking about how some crappy gifts made you feel, think about how there's an entire restaurant full of people who care about you enough to show up in the first place."

"They were crappy gifts." She scuffs the bottom of her peep-toe pump against the sidewalk.

"They were. No contest."

"But there were a lot of people there. I guess it does feel pretty good to know that many people care. Even if some of them were there just to settle a weird plumbing vendetta."

"I don't know what that means, but yeah." He's looking at her hopefully. "What do you say? Let's go back and finish the party. I happen to know there's an entire birthday cake comprised of nothing but cinnamon sugar doughnut holes."

"Really? All doughnut holes?" Mindy would kill for any form of dessert right now. Only... "No. No, Danny. I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to. If I went back it would only be because it's what everyone else wants and because I don't want to be rude." He lifts an eyebrow. "_More_ rude. But it's still my birthday. All I've wanted this entire time was a quiet, drama-free night. And maybe some dessert. Which only seems fair."

"Yeah. Okay."

She's a little surprised after chasing her all this way he's giving up so easily. "Really?"

"There's a diner I know a few blocks from here on 16th Street," he tilts his head toward that direction. "And they have the best rhubarb pie you've ever eaten. What do you say?"

"I say that no one should ever cook a vegetable into a pie."

"Their pecan is just as great." Danny's eyes twitch in a near-squint. "Or do you have a thing about cooking nuts into a pie?"

"Eh." She shrugs.

"How about just so-so blueberry?"

"Now you're talking."

* * *

"You were right. It wasn't all that great." She pushes the scrapped-clean plate away.

"Told you you should have gotten the rhubarb. And what are you talking about? You ate two pieces."

"It may not have been great, but it's still my birthday."

"Fair enough. You want another cup of coffee?" he asks, even while reaching in his back pocket for his wallet.

"Hmm, no thank you." Mindy grabs the edge of her coat and scoots out of the booth.

The ticket is already laying face down on the laminate tabletop and Danny doesn't bother turning it over to look at the amount before tossing a couple twenties on top of it. She never even picked up the plastic-coated menu stashed between the salt and pepper shakers, but there's no way their dessert and coffee could have cost more than twenty-five bucks, tops. "You need change? I think I've got some smaller bills in my purse."

"Naw," Danny catches their server's eye, an older lady whose name tag identifies her as Rita, and nods.

Damn. Has he always been this slyly generous and she'd never taken note? It seems weird coming from a man who constantly preaches about the value of a dollar and making fiscally responsible choices. Then Mindy remembers their discussion from a few months ago, about being raised by a single mother who worked at least two jobs, and it begins to make a little more sense.

He shakes his coat on as they step out onto the sidewalk. "Where to now?"

Mindy looks up at him, sure that she's unable to hide her surprise. "Um, I don't know. Hadn't really thought past dessert."

"Wanna get a drink or something? Mediocre pie seems like an anticlimactic end to your birthday."

"That's true." She nods in agreement, but honestly can't think of anything she wants to do more than take off her bra, put on anything with an elastic waistband, and maybe watch something just boring enough to fall asleep in front of the TV. Even though that is a very sad, lonely sounding end to her evening. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh, okay," he says, Danny looking almost disappointed. She's probably imaging that, but it still makes her feel the need to make an offer.

"I would love to just get in my pajamas and watch TV, to be honest." He nods his understanding. "But I've got stuff to make margaritas... If you want to come over."

"Yeah?"

"Sure. It'd be nice to have some company. Just no judging my taste in television. Or my ratty sweats."

"That's a deal." He nudges her elbow, a small smile on his face, and they start walking in the direction of the Village.

They're quiet as they stroll, and with every step closer to her apartment, Mindy feels more relaxed. There's a sleepy sort of ease making everything else about this day fade away.

Danny breaks the silence when they turn the corner onto her street. "Hey. I - um. I wanted to let you know I'm sorry."

She starts to laugh until she looks over and sees the seriousness in his eyes. It makes her oddly nervous. "Okaaay."

"All those things you were saying earlier. About people making you feel like a loser, or that there's something wrong with the way you're living your life? I know there have been at least a few times when I've been a part of that."

Mindy lifts one shoulder up in an almost-shrug and averts her eyes, not knowing what to say. It isn't untrue. But it doesn't feel relevant anymore, the ways both of them have failed at being kind to each other are now just something in the past.

"I'm not making excuses, because the reasons why aren't important, but anything I've said was more about me being on the defensive that it was about you. You're fine just like you are. And if anyone says otherwise or makes you feel like you need to change, screw 'em. Me included."

There are only a handful of times in Mindy's life where she's been truly dumbstruck. This is one of them. She fidgets, not knowing what to do with her hands or how to begin to form a reply.

He slows as the approach the stoop of her building, finally stopping to look at her. "I'm sorry. It was stupid to bring all that back up again."

"No, it's - it's not stupid. It's actually very considerate. Thank you, Danny." He regards her for a moment, the tip of his nose and shell of his ears tinged pink in the cold. It is a generous thing, and she owes him the same. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?"

"Oh, come on. You know for what. I've said some pretty awful stuff about you and your divorce. And I should never have said it in the first place, but hearing the gruesome details and just listening to the way you talked about her when we were at that pizza place where you two met..." She shakes her head. "I understand the hurt and the damage. I had no right to say those things. You've gone through enough without me piling on."

Danny takes a deep breath, chest heaving, before slowly releasing it. "Apology accepted. Clean slate?"

"Yeah. Clean slate. You still want to come up?"

"Hell yeah. I was promised margaritas."

"And margaritas you shall have!" Mindy digs in her purse looking for her keys. Unlocking the security door, he follows her inside. The warmth of the lobby is nice.

"Oh." He shoves a hand in his coat pocket when they get to the elevator, and pulls something out. "I almost forgot. Here."

It's a long, slender tube with a crumpled red bow stuck to it. A sad decoration that looks like it was salvaged from some discarded Christmas wrapping paper. Handing it to her he says, "It's probably not that great a gift, but you said your skin gets dry, so..."

Mindy plucks the bow off and - holy shit. It's a tube of La Prairie White Caviar Hand Cream. Three small ounces of Swiss indulgence so expensive Mindy won't even buy it for herself. She did the math once: it's basically sixty bucks an ounce. "Danny. I can't believe you did this."

"Yeah, you're right. It's too practical. Like, who gives people lotion? It's like giving someone toothpaste. It was stupid." He wraps his hand around the container, trying to pull it from her grasp. "I'll take it back and get you a gift card or something."

"Don't you dare! This is amazing." She tugs it away from him and holds it close to her chest. "I just can't believe you would do something so extravagant. How did you even know this stuff is out there?"

"I didn't. The lady at Bergdorf's just said it was the best. I don't know what the big deal is over some lotion, but -" He stops talking when she throws her arms around his neck and hugs him quickly. She lets him go almost immediately as the elevator arrives with a dinging announcement.

Danny's slightly frowning when she reaches around him to press the button to her floor, confusion lining his face deeply. He may not have a clue what a good job he's done, but she does. Mindy nudges his shoulder. "Thank you for everything tonight. For the oddly gelatinous pie, and the best birthday gift. And for turning a day that had so far been comprised entirely of suck into a really nice birthday. Thank you, Danny."

"You're welcome." He's looking back at her with a strange, unreadable intensity before smiling slowly. "That's what friends do."


	6. Do The Right Thing

**Chapter 6 - Do The Right Thing**

**Sunday, April 21st, 2013 - Days Married: 111**

There's a waiting line to get into the church. Since when is there a waiting line for church?

"This is a good sign, right? Super exclusive, like getting into a hot nightclub. Just. . in daylight and with uglier clothes."

She turns, surveying the line of people queuing up behind them. Danny has to shift away to keep the brim of her ridiculous hat from scrapping the side of his face. "High attendance is good, but - no. It's not supposed to be exclusive. That's kind of the opposite of the point."

"Yeah. Right. The point is . . . togetherness." Mindy's voice lilts up like maybe it's a question.

"Well, partly. The Church is the people, not the structure. So congregating and worshiping as the body of Christ is important. Like, 'when two or more gather together,' ya know. But it's more than that. It's about -" Danny turns to find Mindy's eyes widened and mouth slightly open. "What?"

"No. Nothing. You just know a lot about church."

"Isn't that the point of you bringing me here? To use my knowledge for your own weird personal dating drama?"

"You are absolutely right." Mindy smiles and nods emphatically. "Please continue. I might be able to use some of this on our next date, so long as Casey checks out."

"Yeah, um..." Danny's lost his train of thought. Something about the point of attending church. He probably shouldn't have agreed to this. The finer points of how this might be a sacrilege are vague, but enough to make him uncomfortable. The line moves as the greeters pick up their pace handing out bulletins.

"What?"

"Huh? What, what?" He glances out of the corner of his eye toward her before taking another step closer to the wide, oak doors.

"You're doing that thing you do."

Danny finally turns his full attention back to her. "What thing I do?"

"You know." Mindy gestures with her pristine gloved hand. "Where you get all nervous and edgy. And you keep giving me the side-eye. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"Then are you having a medical emergency or something?"

"No. It's just. . ." Danny looks around before lowering his voice. "Now that we're actually here it feels . . wrong. I shouldn't be helping you pick out a boyfriend."

Mindy's quiet for a moment longer than she should be and he wonders if she's even listening to him. Finally she takes a sharp breath and replies. "Danny, are you jealous?"

"What? No!" He takes the paper handed to him by the tall young woman to the left side of the entrance, and nods politely when she wishes him good morning. "This is all morally ambiguous. I don't know exactly how, but coming to church to help you pick up a minster while we're still married has got to be a sin."

"Oh my God, Danny! Could you say that any louder?"

"Could you not take the Lord's name in vain while we're in here?!" he whispers harshly.

"I don't know why you're the one who has a problem with this since you're the one who can't seem to be bothered to get the you know what."

They slide onto the pew, the parishioners grumbling about Mindy's hat finally encouraging her to remove the damn thing. It gives Danny time to think of a retort. "I am working the annulment." He whispers the words near her ear so she has no grounds to complain. "It's just very different from the last one. And I'm trying to avoid having to get an attorney."

"Okay, it's different. But it should be easier, right? So what's the problem?"

"I think it's going to be just as simple as filing joint paperwork and submitting it for a judge to sign. No need for a hearing. And, since we're only married civilly and not in the eyes of the Church, that makes it easier. Which is good because, believe me, you do not want to have to go through all that." Danny shudders at the memory. The entire process of ending his marriage was awful, but all the tribunals and meetings with Father Francis, which left no dirty detail unaired, were especially humiliating. "But no one can give me a straight answer if one of us has to be primary on the paperwork, basically making it where one of us is at fault-"

"Which would clearly be you." She smooths her skirt across her lap.

"Why would I be the one at fault?"

"Because you're the one who printed out the application and filled it out. Plus, you're the one who misunderstood my suggestion in the first place. If in five years we end up dead at the other's hand, then I will take full credit. That will be on me."

"Okay. That's fair. I've just gotta get some more information." Danny rushes to say over the rising organ music. "And maybe hire a process server, I don't know. But I told you I'd handle it and I will."

Just as quickly as the organ began, it switches to some weird electronic music and Mindy's conquest begins what is maybe the most sacrilegious sermon Danny's ever heard. Though he does make an okay point about God's endless grace and love.

He can't help noticing the way her lips part slightly, eyes dark, before Mindy leans over to speak to him. "Thank you, Danny. Handle it. Because it's probably a deal breaker, and I am totally going to nail Pastor Casey."

**Tuesday, April 23rd, 2013 - Days Married: 113**

It's not like he thought spending the day in a prison would be great, but as Morgan pushes him back, blocking him from the chaos erupting, Danny thinks this is going worse than he would have imagined.

There are alarms starting to blare, the sounds of metal against metal and locks turning over. With basically a giant standing in front of him, arms slung wide, he can only guess at what's happening and can see none of it. Which is fine, maybe even preferable.

Until he hears a particularly pitched scream.

Danny darts around Morgan just in time to see a large woman with a fist-full of long black hair and the biggest pair of sheers he's ever seen. He can't see her face, but the glint of sharp blades in proximity to Mindy makes his stomach turn over. It takes his feet a moment to catch up with his brain, his hands shaking with fear, before lunging into the fray. He has to. Because if Danny is scared simply as a witness, then Mindy must be terrified.

* * *

Mindy flinches when the cool ointment connects with her broken skin. "Hold still." Danny grabs her chin, thumb resting just under her bottom lip, to keep her steady.

"I can't believe I did this," she says softly. Her eyes are glassy and irritated, the tears she's already shed leaving red spiderwebs around the deep brown of her irises.

Danny's gaze moves from her eyes back to the cut on her forehead. "I think it took everyone else by surprise, too." She sniffles and nods, the cotton swab slipping and trailing goo down to her eyebrow. He grips her chin tighter.

He's finishing the the antiseptic and is ready to start with the butterfly bandages when he feels the first drop hit the back of his hand. She's blinking hard to unsuccessfully keep more tears from falling.

Mindy turns her head, gazing down at the sterile-looking vinyl tile floor, and Danny uncurls his fingers from her chin. Gently, he cups her cheek and pushes her face back until she has no choice but to look at him again. "I'm just giving you a hard time. Trying to make a joke, lighten the mood. You know this isn't your fault."

She huffs what he thinks she means to be a laugh, but it's too watery to be anything other than kind of heartbreaking. "This is totally my fault, Danny. How could it be anyone's fault but mine?"

"Okay, it is mostly your fault. But you were just trying to do a nice thing."

"A nice thing that started a prison riot." Two more hot tears fall to his skin and roll slowly down his forearm.

"A now contained prison riot. One that only started because you were trying to be a generous person. Misguided, but generous. And no one was hurt." Mindy clicks her tongue in exasperation. "Right. No one except for you. And Morgan. Though stepping in the line of pepper spray is mostly on him."

"Yeah," she sniffles. "You'd think someone with his criminal record and experience with time on the inside he'd have quicker reflexes."

Danny quirks a smile and grabs the package of adhesive strips. They stay in silence while he administers to the long cut on her forehead, Mindy only deciding to start speaking again the moment he tries to patch up the corner of her mouth. It would irritate him if her hushed words didn't sink in his stomach like a stone. "It was kinda scary, huh?"

His fingers falter briefly where they're poised, knuckles resting against her face to give him a steadier hand. Mindy's looking at him like she wants him to make light of the situation, to defuse the fear he can see latent in the back of her eyes. Honestly he'd like to, he would, only it feels too serious to lie about. "I was terrified."

"You were?" A smile tugs at the undamaged corner of her mouth, and it's not one of teasing, but one of relief. Like so many other emotions, there's a camaraderie in fear.

"Of course I was." The image of Mindy on her knees, that wall of a woman standing beside her with a weapon in her hand, flashes for the millionth time unbidden through Danny's head. He's so fucking grateful there are only two minor cuts to attend to. Shallow wounds will heal and hair can grow back.

His hands fall away from her face, unable to keep the contact without being afraid she'll feel the tremor that's back in his hand. They can commiserate about this, sure. It's just that the full truth, the one where even though she's okay it will keep him from sleeping tonight, would do her more harm than good. So he keeps it truthful and yet still light, surface. No need to amplify what she's already feeling. "We were in lock down in the middle of a freakin' prison riot. How can that be anything but scary?"

"Right?! It's going to make a really good story, though." Instantly her mood has shifted, a brightness back to her eyes that has nothing to do with tears.

"You're going to leave out the part where it was kinda your fault when you retell this, aren't you?"

"Duh. It would be more embarrassing than badass if I left that part in." Danny stretches the final bandage by her mouth, closing her broken skin. "Ouch."

"Sorry." He swipes away the excess ointment with his thumb. The fingers of his left hand are aligned with her jaw, and the skin under his touch is so smooth, so warm. So alive. Mindy's lips are pursed, pink and pretty, and he stares at them a moment, a question nagging at his brain he can't seem to grab hold of. All the adrenaline has worn off and he's feeling drugged and sentimental and not at all like himself. She licks her lips and he remembers suddenly what he was doing, and that his job is done.

Danny pulls away, the stool he's sitting on rolling back when he does. Mindy's regarding him a little funnily, and it makes him feel like he's missed something, his head muddled. Then he remembers what he was going to ask. "You said your brother Rishi's staying with you for spring break?"

"Yeah. He's sleeping on my couch and trying to pretend it's Mexico. I'm taking him for burritos tonight for a more authentic simulation. Why?"

"You had mentioned it." Danny shrugs, playing it off. "Couldn't remember if it was this week or the next."

It's another thing today he can be grateful for. He doesn't want her to be alone tonight.


	7. How To Succeed In Fraud Without Trying

**Chapter 7 - How To Succeed In Fraud Without Really Trying**

**Friday, May 24th, 2013 - Days Married: 144**

"Are you nervous?" Her eyebrows are pulled together seriously, but Mindy's smiling.

He disengages his death grip from the armrest one finger at a time. "No."

"That's good. Because it seems like a well-educated man, a doctor even, who understands odds and deals with split second life and death decisions on a regular basis, would know that statistically flying is the safest form of travel." Danny nods his agreement to every word she says and tries to ignore how the recycled air is kind of nauseating.

"It's just that you look nervous. My mistake." Mindy goes back to the magazine propped on her tray table (which should be up and secured) and slides through the glossy pages slowly.

Once the ascension is over, his ears finished popping uncomfortably, the seat belt sign unlit, and they're gliding smoothly along at thirty thousand feet, he feels perfectly relaxed. He's engrossed in his book when the drink cart comes along. They split a can of Coke, and once the flight attendant has moved to the next row Danny gives Mindy his shortbread cookie and she offers him some of her tiny pretzels in exchange.

He's midway through a paragraph when she turns toward him, pulling a knee up in the seat. She doesn't have to make any more overtures than that for him to know to replace the bookmark and give her his full attention.

"So why don't you like flying?"

"It's not that I don't like it," he says, knowing it's no kind of explanation.

"Then what is it?"

Danny's never been one to self-analyze, so it takes him a minute to articulate something more than, it makes me uncomfortable. Waiting patiently, she sips her drink, the few rapidly-melting cylinders of ice in the cup clinking against her teeth.

"Um, I guess I don't love that once you're on board and the plane starts taxiing, that's it. There are no other options. You're stuck."

"Like claustrophobia or something?"

"No. Or - not entirely. It's just being at someone else's mercy until we touch down and those doors open again. No matter what happens, there's nothing I can do about it."

"So it's about control."

Hearing it phrased so frankly makes it sound a little crazy, but yeah; it's completely about losing control. Danny shrugs and nods. "Yeah, I guess. Ultimately. I know it's ridiculous to think anyone has control over their own fate or whatever, but there's still this illusion that we all do. I don't know. There's always this moment when I fly when I realize how little control I have over anything. It makes me feel. . ." He struggles to name it.

"Scared?" she offers, regarding him in that soft way she does every once in a while when she's truly invested and listening.

"No, not that exactly. Small. Insignificant. Like no matter what, my life is completely in someone else's hands." He cuts his eyes, looking at her under the veil of his lashes. "That sounds crazy, doesn't it?"

"No, I get it." Mindy lays a hand light on his arm. "It's kind of exciting though, isn't it? Surrendering. It's like falling in love. It's terrifying and exhilarating, and there comes a point where there's nothing you can do about it. You have to trust that the other person isn't going to crash and burn with your heart. That's part of the fun of it."

"Describing love that way doesn't actually make it sound fun either. Sounds more like a war zone."

She tuts at him. "You're just saying that because you're jaded and need a girlfriend."

"Hey. I see people."

"Sure you do," she says disbelievingly, and he knows it's pointless to insist any further. "And you're not wrong. Love is totally a war zone. It's all just - friendly fire everywhere, dark-secret landmines, and all kinds of collateral damage."

"That does actually sound very accurate, yes."

"Mmm."

"Is that why you're thinking about seeing Josh while we're out here?" Danny doesn't like that even a little bit. That scumbag doesn't deserve a moment of her time. He's a shithead for even calling her in the first place. Like Josh clearing his conscience is going to do anything but hurt Mindy.

"Maybe. It was all very abrupt. Within the span of an hour I was happy and in love - or almost maybe close to being in love anyway - and then it was done. Until this morning, the last time I spoke to him was at the Christmas party. He never even asked for his stuff back." She's plucking at the fabric of his sleeve absently. "Casey raised some good points about it. Closure might be good. I can muster armistice for half an hour."

"I don't like it." Danny should keep his damn mouth shut. It isn't any of his business. Although it feels like it is if the end result is her getting hurt again.

Mindy snorts a laugh. "Do you not now? Well buddy, your opinion is noted. Thank you. But you don't really have a say."

"I didn't suggest I did."

"True."

"So you're going to do it then?"

She takes a deep breath and turns her head to peer out the window for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "Yeah. I think I am. So go ahead. Out with it. Tell me all the reasons you think that's stupid."

Danny pushes his bottom lip up in an almost-frown, and shakes his head. "No. You know what's best for you. Doesn't matter if I don't like it. I won't try and change your mind."

"Oh." Her brow is pulled tight in surprise and confusion. "Okay."

Mindy shifts facing forward again, leg bending back to the floor, and he picks up his Koontz novel. He waits a good long time before finishing his thought. It's a bit overly dramatic, in a way that's a lot like the woman seated next to him. "Doesn't mean I'm not going with you."

"Like hell you are." Without even looking up from the page, he can feel her eyes flash from the seat-back TV screen to him. "Why would you even want to go with me?"

"I didn't say I wanted to. I said that I was." Slowly he looks up to find her frowning so severely he can't stop the smile that twitches at his mouth. "What? You think I'm going to let you go into a war zone by yourself? Now who's the one talking crazy?"

* * *

There are lines to check in. Apparently every single person attending the conference arrived at the hotel at the same time. Jeremy and Morgan both chose the faster moving line, and by the time Mindy rolls her giant suitcase up to the desk in front of him, Danny thinks he spies the two other men headed toward the resort's bar.

"Checking in. It will be under Shulman & Associates."

"What's your name, ma'am?"

"Dr. Mindy Lahiri."

The clerk, whose name tag reads Dillon, keys in a few things, his typing speed and frown accelerating at the same rate. "Um."

Mindy's tapping a single, manicured nail on the rough-hewn wood counter, already antsy from having to wait nearly half an hour. "Is there a problem?"

"I - uh. There appears to be, yes. There's no record of a reservation under your name."

Danny steps up next to Mindy, shifting his bag, and leans an elbow against the counter. "The other two people in our party have already checked in. There are no other rooms listed under Shulman & Associates?"

"Just one." The young man shrugs. The other one must be his. Their trip has been booked for months. How can the hotel have lost just her reservation and no one else's? "I'm guessing it's yours, sir. A Queen Suite for Dr. and Dr. Castellano?"

Danny's jaw clenches hard, locking, and he can feel his face starting to redden. Catching the look, Dillon begins to ramble somewhat frantically. "I'm very sorry. Let me get our manager. I promise we'll do everything we can to straighten this out."

He's about to tell him there's no need, clearly Mrs. Dr. Castellano and her fucked up sense of humor is the culprit. He's about to say just that when the back of Mindy's hand smacks his chest hard.

"I cannot believe you did this. What? Did you think it would be funny?" She lowers her voice from the worked-up pitch. "What if Morgan or Jeremy heard this? Can you imagine how embarrassing it would be to have to explain? I am NOT sharing a room with you."

"You think I did thi-"

"What could possibly be so embarrassing?" The sudden clap of Jeremy's hand on Danny's shoulder makes him flinch.

"Uhh." Danny stumbles, looking to Mindy for any help at all. Her eyes are wide and hold nothing but mild panic within them. "Nothing. Just. Tiny mix up. I thought you were getting a drink."

"Just exploring the place," Jeremy turns his attention to address the clerk. "This is a lovely facility."

"Thanks." Dillon says, looking just as confounded as Danny feels.

"So. You two lovebirds find your little surprise?" He's squeezing both Danny and Mindy's shoulders, towering between them.

"What the hell have you been telling people, Danny?" Mindy growls at him through clenched teeth.

"Nothing!" He turns his attention back to their partner. "Why did you do this? Or - maybe more importantly - how the hell did you find out?"

"Hard to keep a budding love affair like yours secret for long." Turning his attention away again, Jeremy addresses the young man. "They'll need two key cards, please."

"Wait. I still need my own room."

"And ruin your belated honeymoon? That would be a shame." Danny's fingers twitch to clench into a fist at the saccharine sound of Jeremy's voice.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Lahiri. There are no other rooms available. We've been booked solid for this conference since the end of April." Now that Jeremy has opened his big mouth, Dillon looks much more dismissive and less inclined to be helpful.

"You heard the man. All booked." Jeremy takes the key cards, and before either of them can protest further, he ushers them away. The two middle-aged women next in line sigh with relief as they go.

They sit down in a cluster of deep, perfectly worn, brown leather chairs surrounding the stacked-stone fireplace in the lobby. Danny races to think of the least embarrassing way to tell the story, to make it clear it's not how he's interpreting it. And he's weighing how much he's willing to offer for Jeremy's silence.

Before he can decide where to start, Mindy beats him to the punch. "This isn't what it looks like."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you think it looks like. But I can assure you I don't want to know what it actually is." His tone has changed completely, Jeremy dropping the sweetness.

"Why are you doing this, man?" Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him trying to be cool. "And how do you know?"

"I'm the managing financial partner." He's looking at them like this should explain everything. He sighs when he's met with nothing but blank stares. "Our accountants send me any payroll changes with our quarterly tax statements."

Danny still doesn't get it, but the way a fierce blush is rising on the apples of Mindy's cheeks, he thinks she does. "What did you do?" he asks her perhaps a bit too forcefully. She shrugs and won't meet his gaze.

"She did what I'm assuming would, in a court of law, be considered tax fraud."

"Mindy!"

"What?! It's not fraud! Legally we're married. And if you hadn't already spent six months 'working on' the annulment I wouldn't have done it. Do you have any idea how many tax breaks there are for married people? My paycheck is like a thousand dollars more a month now."

"It hasn't been six months," he grumbles. It's inane, yet it's all Danny can find to say. "I told you I'm working on it, and I am. I just found out last week I'm going to have to get Judge Markaway's signature, since she was our witness. So... I am working on it. And if you think I'm doing such a terrible job at it, why don't you do it yourself?"

"Janet Markaway? Your patient?" Jeremy waves a hand in dismissal when Danny opens his mouth to confirm the question. "Never mind. I don't want to know. Whatever this is," he makes a face at them, "I want to maintain as much plausible deniability as possible in case I'm called to testify. I refuse to be deported because of your shenanigans."

He stands to walk away, smoothing his dark, knit sweater. Mindy grabs his sleeve before he can go. "Wait. If you at least get that it isn't real, why are you doing this?"

"Same as you. Money. You two sharing a room is saving the practice nearly $1,500.00. If you need a better reason than that, you may think of it as punishment for defrauding the United States federal government. I'm choosing to think of it as the first contribution to a legal fund we hopefully will never have to use."

Mindy huffs and falls back dramatically in the chair. "I hate you more than a little bit right now. Just so you know."

"There was never a doubt. I promise you'll be grateful if we have to retain a tax attorney." He pats her hand gently before smiling bawdily. "Have fun settling in, you two. See you at the dinner tonight."

It takes a few minutes sitting in complete silence for Danny to sort through everything that just happened. Perhaps shockingly, he comes to the conclusion that it could be a lot worse. At least he's not committing tax fraud. If that's even what Mindy's doing. She isn't wrong that currently in the eyes of the law they are married, neither of them going into it with the intention to defraud anyone. It also doesn't sound like anyone other than Jeremy and their accountants even know what's going on. And none of them want any of the embarrassing details. So basically the only thing left as a concern is them sharing a room.

Danny looks over at his friend. The woman who is still technically his wife. Mindy's eyes are closed and she's pushing and tugging on the long handle of her suitcase, methodically rolling it back and forth in front of her. She's probably very messy. Clearly there will be stuff strewn everywhere since she packed for a month-long journey and not a long weekend. But he knows from the doctors lounge that she only snores occasionally, and even then it isn't very loud. If bunking together is the most dire thing to come of all this, Danny thinks maybe they're actually coming out easy.

"Hey. Min-"

"Don't say it. I know that it was stupid. I didn't realize I was going to have to fill out all new W-4 forms. I'll change it back as soon as we get home."

"That's not what I was going to say."

"Oh." She opens her eyes and sits up a little straighter.

"I'm going to put my luggage in my - in our room." He stands, picking up his small leather case. "And then I'm going to the bar and ordering a very large drink. Wanna come?"

"Yes!" She nods enthusiastically. He's taken the suitcase handle from her grasp and is rolling it toward the bank of elevators when she catches up with him. Mindy loops her arm through his. "You're a very understanding man sometimes, Danny. If I had to accidentally drunk-marry someone, I'm glad it was you."

"I'm going to remind you you said that."

"I'm sure you will. Right now I don't even care."


	8. Jericho

**Chapter 8 - Jericho**

**Friday, May 24th, 2013 - Days Married: 144**

Mindy's leaning against the wall, high heels in hand, while Danny unlocks their door. Her body feels heavy and relaxed, the buzz from the wine after dinner wearing off, leaving her sleepy. The door clicks open and he holds it and steps aside to allow her in first.

Earlier, when they dropped off their luggage and she changed into her cocktail dress, she didn't really take the time to look around the suite. It's warm and feels more homey than any other hotel she's stayed in. The room is spacious, with wide-plank hardwood floors and a massive area rug woven in rich colors. There's a large leather chair in the corner by the windows that looks exactly like the ones in the lobby, except this one has a Navajo blanket folded and thrown across the back.

She stops just inside the door, pausing by the highboy where the TV is placed, the comfortable looking queen sized bed looming directly in front of her. Mindy isn't entirely sure why that stops her, but she thinks she's waiting for things to get weird. Danny's been too cool about all of this so far, and it's past time for the other shoe to drop.

Without paying any attention to her stasis, Danny goes about his business, slipping the tie from around his neck and grabbing a neatly folded stack of clothes from his suitcase in the closet. "You mind if I take the bathroom first?"

"No." She shakes her head. "It's fine."

It isn't until the bathroom door latches that she takes a deep breath and her feet find their way again. Shit, maybe she's the one being weird. It's just Danny; there's nothing to be uncomfortable about. How many nights have they both ended up asleep on the couch in the doctors' lounge?

By the time she's grabbed shorts and a T-shirt from her bag and is finishing taking off her jewelry, Danny's already done in the bathroom. He smells like toothpaste and is wearing a thin white undershirt and boxers. Mindy blinks hard and averts her eyes from his state of undress. It isn't indecent. It is however very different from the doctors' lounge comparison she'd been equating this too.

Slipping into the bathroom, she locks the door and presses her back into it. God, this is ridiculous. She's shared a bed with her other best friends a million times. There's not reason why this is any different. Just as that thought begins to make her feel better, her brain unhelpfully provides the detail that none of her other best friends look like that in a T-shirt. Mindy takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. Maybe the aftereffect of the wine is making her a little nuts. She should drink some water.

She slurps a few handfuls from the tap then brushes her teeth. Mindy twists her hair back in a low ponytail, digs in her toiletry bag for her glasses and contact lens case and the pack of makeup removal wipes. Contorting, she tugs the zipper down at the back of her dress and starts to work on the tiny beaded clasp behind her, level with the plane of her shoulders. Of course it can't be as easy as a hook and eye. There's an actual closure, a decorative detail with zero functionality and so small even running the pad of her thumb over both sides Mindy cannot tell where the lever to release the clasp is.

It's the first time she's worn it, and in hindsight Danny did have to secure it for her before they went for a drink. She should have seen this coming. Stubbornly she tries for another few minutes to get it undone. Until the blood has drained uncomfortably from her arms, making her hands tingle like they're on pins and needles, before giving up and opening the bathroom door.

Apparently he's claimed the far side of the bed, the one nearest the windows.

"Danny. I can't get this clasp." Luckily that's all she has to say. He lays his book down open-faced on the bed and takes off his reading glasses, getting up without further prompting and coming to her.

"This thing is impossible," he says, fingers fumbling. She sweeps her tied-back hair out of his way. "Why would anybody design something like this?"

"Search me. If you weren't here I'd have to cut myself out of it. Which would be a crime; this is Escada."

"You know that means nothing to me, right?"

Mindy tucks her chin down so he has a better angle. "Yes. That does not, however, diminish how important it is."

"If you say so."

There's just enough height difference where she can see his brow pulled in concentration reflected in the mirror. He looks so serious, focused, and she can imagine him doing this for his first wife. That would have been different though, and Mindy curses herself for thinking all the ways how.

Closing her eyes tight, she pushes the image away of him kissing the spot at the base of her neck - of Christina's neck - when he finally meets with success. Mindy's able to banish that thought, but it doesn't make things much better. Not entirely. With her eyes closed she's more aware of the way the tips of his fingers are warm every time they brush her skin; of the way every time he exhales a heavy, frustrated breath it washes all the way down her exposed back. Until now she'd forgotten the zipper was already pulled down to the base of her spine.

"Almost got it?" Her voice is hoarse.

"Allllmost." He sucks in a sharp breath. "There." As quickly as it's undone, Danny drapes his hands over her shoulders, keeping the dress from slipping off her. His thumbs are just barely brushing the nape of her neck.

"Thank you." She catches his eyes in the mirror, finding him smiling softly at her. He has a nice smile.

Slowly he slides his hands down, drawing them together and with them the material of the dress until he has both sides pinched between her shoulder blades. "You may wanna..."

"Right!" Mindy shakes her head, breaking out of whatever strange reverie she was in, and reaches back to take hold of the dress from him.

Danny pads out of the bathroom, calling to her as the door closes. "You should really get a tailor to change out that clasp. I'm not always going to be here to release you from your couture prison."

She jerks the door back open, peeking just her head around it. "Oh my God, Danny! Did you just use couture correctly in a sentence?"

"At some point even I am susceptible to osmosis." He grins, hooking his reading glasses back around his neck.

"You should have never let me know you're teachable," she says, closing the door hard before he can say another word.

Mindy plucks out her contacts and submerges them in solution, then begins vigorously scrubbing off her makeup. When she swipes at her mouth she realizes she's still smiling. That man. For all his grumbling, he's always listening. It's a wonderful way to be, and he's a fool if he thinks she's not going to use it against him. One day, whether he likes it or not, he'll know his Choo's from his Louboutin's.

Within five minutes she's changed and ready for bed. She opens the door to find Danny sound asleep, book still upright in his hands. Mindy tiptoes to hang up her dress and grab her cell phone from her clutch.

She really meant to call Casey earlier. It's only ten o'clock in New York, but she doesn't want to have to go out in the hallway in her pajamas to have a conversation. And honestly, she doesn't feel much like talking now anyway. Sitting down in the chair across from the bed, the leather cool on the backs of her legs, she types out a text: Arrived safely. Having a fantastic time in Santa Fe. The hotel is gorgeous and the welcome dinner was great. So far this conference is nicer than my last vacation! 3

Mindy stares at her phone, thumb hovering over the send button. Finally she hits backspace until all the words are gone and starts again: Arrived safely. So far the conference is nice. Hope your day was good and you made headway on your sermon. Have sweet dreams about me! 3

She taps her phone on her knee, knowing he'll reply quickly. It's less than two minutes. Sermon's finished a day early. Boom! Day was fine, but my night would be a lot better if you were here. Glad you're having a nice time. And you know I always have sweet dreams when I'm dreaming about you, girl.

It's cheesy and also completely earnest, so she sends him a kissy-face emoji back. She starts to set an alarm on her phone, the time difference guaranteed to mess up her internal clock. Looking up at the sound of a snuffling snore, Mindy realizes there's no need. No way has Danny not already set an alarm. Or, more likely, asked for an old fashioned wake-up call from the front desk.

Working her way around the room, Mindy grabs a bottle of water from the tray sitting on the table next to the one-serving coffee pot, then shuts off the overhead light. Only the dim yellow light from the bedside tables are left.

While she was preoccupied the book has fallen from Danny's hands. It's resting on his lap, open, the pages fanned out and his place lost. She slowly picks it up and tucks the bookmark back at random and sets it aside, then clicks off his lamp.

**Saturday, May 25th, 2013 - Days Married: 145**

"You sure you got enough room?"

"Yeah. I'm good, thanks." Mindy goes back to that pesky hangnail with the emery board, careful to do minimal damage to her manicure. She shifts a little on the bed, trying to get more comfortable. All day spent in a straight-back chair listening to presentation after presentation has left her body sore and overly tired.

After several moments she can still feel his gaze on her. Looking up she finds Danny's staring at her over his readers, the length of his body teetering as close to the edge of the bed as possible without going over.

"Oh. Sorry." Using her arm, she sweeps the collection of things accumulated on the bedspread into a pile on her side. The bed shakes a little as he shimmies back toward the middle.

"Do you seriously need all of that stuff?"

"Clearly. Or else I wouldn't have it, would I?"

"Well, you don't need these." Danny filches a few Hersey Kisses from her pile and quickly unwraps and pops one into his mouth.

"You don't have to steal them. I have a whole bag. And now you'll have to brush your teeth again, so-" Mindy sticks out her tongue at him to punctuate the sentence.

He mutters around the melting chocolate, "'s totally worth it."

Mindy deposits the nail file along with the two magazines she bought downstairs after breakfast onto the nightstand, and turns back to the array in front of her. Next she unscrews the jar of body butter and scoops out a generous amount. Rubbing it between her palms first, warming it, she smooths it over her skin. Starting with her legs and arms, then the heels and across the tops of her feet.

Standing, she straightens the covers and picks up the rest of the chocolates. Mindy's about to dump these on the nightstand too, but sticks her hand across the bed in Danny's direction first. He plucks two more off her palm with a silent grin.

There. It's not so bad. Only a few essential things left cluttering the bed, and she'll get to those soon enough. Now the table is a mess, but that's not common area so she isn't going to worry about that. She slips into the bathroom to pee one more time, then washes her hands and brushes her teeth.

"Hey, will you grab the pillbox from my kit on the counter?" Danny asks, her hand still on the bathroom light switch.

It's takes her only a moment rummaging through the compact leather case to find it, a long and narrow blue plastic container with the days of the week on it. With her thumbnail she pops open the lid of the one at the end with an S for Saturday on it and pours the three pills of differing sizes into her hand. She shuts off the light and walks back into the bedroom.

"Here."

Danny looks confused momentarily before understanding and cupping his hand beneath her fist. Without him having to ask, she hands him her still nearly full bottle of water as she sits cross-legged on top of the covers again, her back resting against the headboard.

"Thanks," he says, passing the water back to her.

The adhesive sealing the pack of makeup removal wipes opens with a shriek. Mindy takes off her glasses and pulls a single towelette out and begins vigorously scrubbing her face. Maybe a little too vigorously. It shouldn't bother her. There's no reason it should bother her. But he should have told her, shouldn't he? Shit, what if she's his emergency contact? What if-

"Oh my God! Stop trying to scrub your epidermis off and just ask me! I know you looked."

Mindy angrily flops toward him. "Lisinopril? Why the hell are you taking blood pressure medication, Danny? And why didn't you tell me?" she spits the words, maybe a little more upset than she should be.

"I didn't tell you because it never occurred to me you would care." He shrugs. "I'm surprised you're so upset about this. It's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal. Especially when it comes to you of all people." She swipes the cloth roughly over her eyes.

His brow knits and he twists to face her more. "Why especially me of all people?"

"Are you kidding? You're the healthiest person I know. You work out six times a week and voluntarily eat bran. Your BP should be perfect."

"Yeah. Except you're a doctor, Min. You know that's not the way it always works. On paper it should be perfect, but that's not taking heredity into account. Hypertension runs on both sides of my family. I lost three of my grandparents to heart disease. It's something I've had to watch since before I went into med school. I've been on medication for it since I was 28. I'll always be on it."

"Oh." For a long time that's all she can say, so many thoughts crowding in, making it where none actually reach her mouth. There are so many things she wants to ask him, chief among them a simple: You'd tell me if you weren't okay, right? Yet all she can manage is, "Aren't you worried about long-term side effects?"

"Not as worried as I am about having a stroke by the time I'm 40."

Mindy nods, swallowing hard.

"Honestly, I'm surprised that's what you even asked me about. I thought you were going to have more questions about the Cialis for daily use in there."

"Whatever!" She wads up the used wipe and throws it at his face. It lands crookedly across the bridge of his nose. "The other two were a B-12 and a multivitamin."

He pulls the cloth off his face and smirks at her. "Just checking to see if you're paying attention."

* * *

There's an eerie green glow from the bedside clock, and Mindy can't bring herself to look at it. The last time she checked it was nearly two, and that had to have been at least an hour ago. Tomorrow's going to suck. Driving out to see Josh is going to be bad enough, she doesn't want to be brain dead from lack of sleep and with bags bigger than her carry-on under her eyes added to that.

Still. Mindy can't sleep. She isn't sure what she needs exactly, just that she's needy. Closing her eyes tightly, she rolls over again toward the window. There's a groove in the shape of her body in the mattress and no position is comfortable anymore.

Not as worried as I am about having a stroke at 40.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Why can't she stop thinking about this? Mindy opens her eyes again, the silhouette of Danny's face in relief from the sliver of light peeking around the drapes. It's unkind of her sure, but she's never going to get to sleep if she doesn't hear him say it at least one more time.

Snaking her left hand up from where it's resting under the covers, Mindy pushes on his bicep hard before quickly curling her hand back toward her cheek. Danny wakes up with a startle, his breath catching.

"Mindy?" His voice is cracked and a little panic-y and she should feel bad. Instead she's washed with relief that he's awake and she isn't alone in the dark anymore.

She makes a good show of it, burrowing a little and muddling her words. "Hmm. Wha's wrong?"

"Nothing." He blinks hard and licks his lips. "Nothing. Sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep."

Reaching out with her right hand, she rests her fingers across his where his hand lays on the blanket. "Promise me you're okay?"

Already tipping over into sleep again, he gives his fingers a little flex, two of his fingers looping around hers. "'m fine. It was probably just a bad dream."

It still takes a little while, their fingers still hooked and the sound of Danny's snoring keeping her company, until finally she sleeps.

**Sunday, May 26th, 2013 - Days Married: 146**

The nightly routine takes a little longer tonight, Mindy packing the things she won't need in the morning after she uses them. In the time it takes her to go through and put everything away, Danny has packed, finished reading his book, and is now yawning endlessly while toggling between ESPN and some old black and white movie on cable every time Sports Center goes to commercial.

The last three days have been somewhat exhausting, and yet there's a part of her that's sad to already be going home. She sticks a finger in the tiny canister of lip balm and spreads it evenly on her mouth. She should put it and her hand cream away too, but Mindy's too tired to walk even the few steps back to her toiletry bag. Only getting three hours sleep last night was the worst.

She pulls back the covers and clicks off her lamp, leaving only the flickering light of the TV, and crawls into bed. Danny yawns again and she can't help reflexively doing the same. "Ugh, you've gotta stop doing that," she mutters around her hand.

"Sorry."

Mindy's entranced with the TV and a young Clark Gable, distractedly squeezing the tube of white caviar hand cream Danny gave her for her birthday. It isn't until she starts rubbing it in that she realizes she's got WAY too much. "Shoot." Too late to try and get some of it back in the tube. "Uhh..."

"What is it?"

"I got too much." Mindy's holding her hands up like she's just scrubbed in for surgery.

"Just," Danny waves his hand toward her body. "Put it someplace else."

"I already put lotion on. Plus this is hand cream. The good stuff you got me. I don't want to waste it. You think there's any way I could scrape it back into the bottle?"

"Oh, for God's sake." Reaching out with both hands to envelope hers, Danny roughly rubs first her left hand and then her right in between his until all the excess has been absorbed. "There. Problem solved."

"Hm, yeah." Surprisingly effective. And now her hands are nice and warm too. "Thanks. Except now you're lopsided. You can't just moisturize your palms. Here." Without waiting for permission, she dabs a small dot of cream on the back of each of his hands.

"Was that really necessary?" He's looking at her a little bit like she just forced him to put on lipstick.

"Yes, actually, it is completely necessary. You'll thank me. Oh, and don't forget to work it into your knuckles and your nail beds."

"Yeah, I'm not going to do that."

Mindy half shrugs and scoots down until the covers are up to her chin and her head is perfectly pillowed. Her eyes are already having trouble staying open when Danny starts speaking again.

"So how'd your phone call with Jesus Christ Superstar go earlier? Was he in a very chill place about your ex having a nasty coke habit?"

"Okay, that's kind of rude." She turns a little to nuzzle the left side of her face in the pillow. "But yes, he was understanding in a very Christian and zen-like way-"

"You can't really be both of those things-"

She doesn't stop to allow him to correct her. "That's one thing I can say for him, Casey is the most evolved and secure man I've ever dated."

"You tell him about our sleeping arrangements?"

She snorts with a laugh. "Are you crazy? No way, buddy. And I'm not going to. And you better not say anything either."

"Why not? If he's Mr. Evolved and Secure?"

"Because one of two things will happen, both of them bad."

"And they are?"

"He'll be jealous and then it will become a thing. I'll have to lie about why it happened and assure him it was a mix up with the hotel and not Jeremy's doing because of - you know. Casey's very understanding. He'll probably be cool and act okay with it, but then he'll be weird every time I say anything about you. It would be horrible. Plus if I had to choose, I will always pick a lie of omission to one that is bold faced.

"It's good to know you have a very clear set of moral guidelines. And the other thing?"

"Mm, even worse, he won't be jealous at all. And then I'll have to break up with him."

"Ha! You're -" Danny flops over so he's facing her and scrubs a hand down his face. "I don't understand women. You're saying if he gets jealous he's being unreasonable, but if he's actually mature about it then it's a breakup-able offense? You get why that's insane, right?"

"No, no. I don't think so. What's insane is if a guy is perfectly cool and unruffled about his girlfriend spending three nights snuggled up in bed with her super good looking, single, best friend. Being supportive about seeing Josh is one thing. But this? If he honestly didn't have a problem with this then - I don't know. He would have to be an android. Or a cyborg. I don't really know the difference. One of the two."

Danny cuts into her rambling train of thought, his voice quiet. "I'm your best friend?"

"What?"

"You just said your super good looking, single, best friend. I'm your best friend?"

"Well . . yeah. Duh. You knew that. I've explained to you that it's a tier."

"Yeah, no. I know that. Just - I'm on it? That tier?"

"Of course. Although maybe you should have a tier of your own. . . The guy best friend tier. Or, best guy friend tier? No, that changes the meaning some, doesn't it? We can work that out later."

The light is dim, but she's pretty sure his eyes are filled with surprise, and it makes her heart clench funnily. Like it would never have occurred to him that he could be her best friend. Mindy doesn't know if she should be reassuring him, be sad, or a little offended that maybe he doesn't feel the same way. She does know that it's too late and she's too tired to navigate these waters well. So she does the only thing she can think of and changes the subject. "I think I've seen this before. Which one is this?"

It takes him a moment before he replies. "It Happened One Night."

"Hmm, it looks familiar but I don't remember what happens," The commercial break not even over yet, Danny switches it back to ESPN and leaves it. "Hey, I was enjoying the movie. Why'd you change it?"

"Because it's almost over. And if you can't remember what happens then you need to start from the beginning. It's a classic."

"Fine," she huffs, even though sleep is tugging at her hard.

"Oh, stop being dramatic. We'll rent it sometime."

"I'll make popcorn," she murmurs.

"It's a date. Hey, you don't know how to play the trumpet, do you?"

"Me? Mmm. No. Played sax in the band." Mindy snuggles down deeper, the question off her lips without knowing if she'll last long enough to hear the answer, "Why?"

"No reason."


	9. Exes and Ohs

**Chapter 9 - Exes and Ohs**

**Monday, May 27th, 2013 - Days Married: 147**

She wakes to the feeling of the pad of his thumb sweeping up the highest ridge of her cheekbone, his fingers in her hair.

"Min."

"Mm." Her eyes crack open, vision a little blurry without her contacts. Danny's sitting on the edge of the bed, hair wet and face shiny from being freshly shaved.

"Mindy, it's 7:30. We have to leave for the airport no later than 9:00. You need to get up."

His fingers feel nice moving soothingly in her hair. She leans into the touch, Danny's skin smelling like soap.

"Are you seriously falling asleep again right now while I'm waking you up?"

"No."

"Your eyes are closed and you're . . nuzzling."

"Mmm."

"Okay." His hand moves down and suddenly he's got both her wrists and is pulling her upright.

"Ugh, Danny. I'm up. God." Mindy rubs her eyes, finally focusing them in time to see him walk away. She hadn't noticed before that he is wearing dark-washed blue jeans and nothing else.

"Good. Because I'm not going to get blamed for you missing the continental breakfast." He calls from the bathroom.

Mindy throws the covers back and jumps out of bed with a smile breaking open her face. Any day that starts with a hot, shirtless man waking her up followed by waffles is going to be a great day.

* * *

Danny's been on edge since before they stepped off the elevator at 8:48. He had pushed Mindy in the direction of the breakfast bar while he returned the key cards to the front desk and loaded the rental car.

Unsurprisingly, the feeling gets worse by the time they board their flight. Only it doesn't feel like that usual sense of unease that plagued him on the way here. This time he doesn't even think about it when the doors are sealed and the cabin begins pressurization.

If he's being honest, he knows what it is. With every mile drawing them closer to home, there is an increasing bone-deep hollowness making him feel brittle.

When he was playing devils advocate on Friday regarding all the pros and cons of sharing a room with Mindy, there was one thing he didn't take into consideration. It never occurred to him he'd enjoy it so much.

Too much.

Danny never considered wanting her.

He should have, though. It isn't like it's escaped him that Mindy's a very attractive woman. He's just never been attracted to the point of wanting to do something about it. That is until she, so innocently, asked him to undress her.

Boundaries have never been her strongest suit. Surely that first night she didn't realize the way her dress gaped open at her back left nothing before him but the smooth expanse of bare skin all the way down to the lacy edge of her panties. How it escaped her the way his fingers were clumsy as they worked to free the clasp of her dress, he doesn't know.

Mindy gives pieces of herself so freely sometimes it's hard not to be greedy and take them. Like after waking from whatever forgotten nightmare on Saturday. Half asleep and skin so warm, she slid her hand over his, and it made him want more. It made him want to roll over and wrap his arms around her and not let go. The most he allowed himself was to loop his pinky and ring finger around hers, keeping them tethered, needing to keep at least that connection.

It's just his own unfulfilled needs coloring his feelings. He knows that. It doesn't mean anything; it's just proximity. Which is why last night, not five minutes after Mindy fell asleep, he allowed himself to scoot just a little closer. Because it doesn't mean anything. Her head was practically on his pillow anyway, her bed sharing etiquette not what it could be.

Danny hadn't expected her to curl into him when their sides brushed. He should have pushed her away; he knows he should have. But the way her cheek felt pressed against his shoulder, her palm flat along his ribs, and her hair soft and sweet-smelling brushing his face - shit. He'd missed that easy intimacy. He left the TV on until reruns of sports highlights turned into infommercials. Danny hadn't wanted to fall asleep.

And now he doesn't want to go home, a feeling of dread gnawing at his stomach. Not when all that waits for him is a silent, pristine apartment with an empty bed. Maybe he'll offer to pick up some shifts at the hospital. Just for the next week until he can reacquaint himself with his solitary routine.

This weekend threw into sharp focus something he hadn't realized he needed. Now that he's painfully aware, there's no forgetting it. Danny's tired of being lonely.

He isn't really watching the movie playing in front of them, simply staring blankly in the direction of the screen. Finally Mindy's voice cuts through his thoughts. She gives him shit for watching but not wearing headphones. Luckily he'd seen enough to be able to sham an excuse.

Mindy smiles back at him approvingly then slips the earphones off her head. "Hey. I don't think I ever said it, but thanks for going with me yesterday."

"It wasn't anything." Danny unclasps his hands where they rest in his lap and pushes a little higher in the uncomfortable seat. "You don't have to thank me."

"Okay, you need to learn how to take a compliment. Let's try this again." Turning slightly, Mindy slips her hand over his where it lies between them on the armrest. "Danny. Thank you for having my back and going with me to rehab to see my increasingly horrid ex." She squeezes his hand encouragingly. "Now you say..."

"Right." There's a smile pushing at his lips that she put there, and somehow the warmth of her hand is burnishing the rough edge of his anxiety. "You're welcome."

"See? Way easier than denying you did a nice thing. Well done."

Her fingers are slipping off his skin, and already he's losing the lightness in his chest. Before she's gone, Danny snags the tips of her fingers, curling his hand under hers. "Anytime."

Mindy's eyes flicker like flames, and suddenly her fingers no longer feel simply warm. She's burning and it's sucking the oxygen out of the cabin.

There's a moment he wonders what would happen if he leaned over and kissed her. Would she kiss him back? Danny's eyes drop to her mouth, and he wants to find out.

The fingers of his right hand twitch, the desire to draw her face to his too strong to resist. His hand doesn't make it an inch off his knee before the plane bottoms out. Danny's stomach goes with it.

The turbulence lasts only a second, and when it's over so is his momentary lapse in control. He's breathing hard and might be crushing Mindy's hand.

"You okay?" Her voice is low.

He loosens his grip and swallows hard. "Yeah. Yeah."

Mindy strokes her thumb over his knuckles, her eyes soft in a way that makes it clear she doesn't believe his lie. For the hundredth time he's so very grateful to have her by his side.

Everything will be fine. He already has so much of what he needs right here. It's a treasured and hard to find thing: he has genuine, albeit unlikely, friend. One he's starting to realize he can count on. It's more than Danny's had in a very long time.

He doesn't have to be alone anymore. And he can find someone to share his bed. That part is easy.

**Tuesday, May 28th, 2013 - Days Married: 148**

She isn't at all like Mindy had imagined her. And if she's being honest, she'd imagined her very clearly. The lasting image honed of Danny's first wife was of a petite woman, tan with chestnut hair that barely tumbled past her thin shoulders and fierce green eyes.

So to find Christina to be statuesque and lithe, with short, trendily mussed blond hair and blue eyes as cool as her demeanor - well - it was a shock. She looked both plain and meticulously styled, and Mindy was suddenly as intrigued by the woman as she was more certain than ever she didn't like her.

There is a scuttling murmur around reception which normally she would love, but Mindy can't seem to focus on anything other than the closed, frosted glass door to Danny's office.

"Bit of a surprise, eh?" Jeremy's voice cuts through her thoughts, startling her. "Wonder what she's doing here."

"Yeah." Mindy begins distractedly shuffling the mail in her hands again, still not seeing it. "I dunno."

"That's it? No wild, speculating gossip or commentary on her wardrobe? You feeling alright? You look a bit green."

"I'm fine," she bites out. Giving up, Mindy shoves her unopened mail back into its standing inbox. "It's just - what good reason could she have to come here?"

Jeremy has the good graces to slide a palm over his mouth and keep his voice down when he says, "Oh my God, you've slept with him."

"What ?! No! Are you crazy? No I haven't." Mindy jerks on his arm so they're not standing right in the middle of reception. "Not unless you mean in the just sleeping kind of way, which was entirely your fault. I have certainly not slept with him in the not sleeping kind of way. God, why would you even think that?"

"I didn't until just now." Jeremy regards her in that shrewd way he can from time to time, and it's making her uncomfortable, wondering what he thinks he sees. She stands straighter. "But I'm starting to wonder if I interpreted your situation all wrong. You two have been awfully chummy lately."

"You're insane. I'm only concerned because our friend and colleague was just ambushed by his monstrous ex-wife. You know, instead of making crazy made up stories and accusing me of things, you could show a little bit of compassion."

"Fine. Clearly I've gone mental to think for a moment there's anything going on between you and Danny," he says, resigned. "You may want to do something about your face though, if you don't want other people to jump to that same conclusion."

Reflexively she draws a hand to her cheek. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Nothing," he says as he walks away. "You're just wearing the look of jealous wife whose husband had an ex appear out of the blue."

* * *

Christina is in there with him no more than ten minutes, tops. Yet it feels like an hour before the door opens again. Danny comes out first, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and steps aside to allow Christina to pass.

She strides smoothly toward the elevator, only stopping for a moment when she gets to Mindy. "It's really nice to meet you."

Mindy opens her mouth to say something, but her tongue is tied in confusion and there are no words to say back anyway. It isn't nice to meet her. She doesn't have to worry about it though, Christina not waiting for a reply.

Mouth still agape, she turns at the same moment Danny grabs her by the elbow and pulls her into his office. Shutting the door and placing his hands on his hips, he paces a tiny path in front of her. "I'm trying really hard right now to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"What? About what? And why was your ex-wife here?"

"You don't know? You're telling me you didn't do this?" he says, eyebrows pulled up. Then softer, "Please tell me you didn't, Mindy."

"Do what? What's going on?"

He sighs, a look of relief washing over him while still maintaining a pent up tension that's making her really nervous. "There was a letter in my desk. An old letter I never sent." He scratches a hand in his hair, hesitating.

"Annnnd?"

"And somebody took it out of my desk and mailed it! That's why she was here. She thinks - she thought I wanted to get back together."

Her throat constricts and she has to force the words out. "Is that something you want?"

"What? No. Of course not. Are you nuts?" He looks offended she would even ask and it makes her feel considerably better. "So if it wasn't you..."

"It was someone else in the office. Who would do that? I mean, it sounds like something I would do, but..."

"I don't know. But I'm going to find out." Anger flashes in his eyes and it imbues her with some of it. The realization that someone they work with was the harbinger of Christina coming here is beginning to piss her off. Ready to bring down wrath on whoever that is, Mindy's already got one hand on the doorknob when Danny grabs her free hand, stopping her. "Wait. There's something else."

She turns back, giving him her full attention. He must realize he's still holding on to her hand, and drops it quickly before speaking.

"Christina was fairly insistent that I would come around. That she'd win me back."

"And obviously that's not going to happen. Right?"

"No. I already told you that. But I know how she is. Once she sets her mind to something... I didn't really have another choice. Not if I wanted to get rid of her. It just kinda slipped out."

There's a feeling tightening her gut that has more to do with the way Danny actually seems nervous than the words he's saying. "What just 'kinda slipped out?'"

"I told her it was too late. That I'd moved on."

"Okay. That doesn't sound so bad."

His chin is tucked down and he's looking up at her through his lashes, a pout on his face that can be anything if not intentional. It's a look so ingratiating it makes her know whatever he's going to say next is going to be bad. "I'm glad to hear you say that. Because she's having dinner with us on Saturday."

"She's doing wha-"

"At our apartment."

"At our-"

"She said she wanted to get to know my new wife. For closure."

"Your new - Oh my God. Tell me you didn't."

"I did." Danny grimaces then tries for a smile. "Are you mad?"

Mindy's eyes narrow while she really considers the question. Dinner with Danny's ex-wife under the pretense that they're actually married for real? It could be the dinner from hell.

Or it could be a hell of a lot of fun.

"Maybe," she finally answers. "That all depends on you."


	10. Entertaining and Other Covert Maneuvers

**A/N: **_To everyone who has left comments and given this story support: Every single kind word is appreciated beyond measure. Your encouragement keeps me going! Thank you all SO MUCH._

**Chapter 10 - Entertaining and Other Covert Maneuvers**

**Saturday, June 1st, 2013 - Days Married: 152**

"Are you sure you brought enough stuff?"

"No," Mindy says, out of breath and struggling to clear the door. "But this is all I could carry. The rest is still in the cab." The straps on her left shoulder are slipping. "Help!"

Danny grabs the two canvas bags before they can hit the floor. "Is there seriously more stuff downstairs?"

"Yes," she huffs a lock of hair out of her eyes. "You mind getting it?"

"Don't you think this is going a little overboard? Even for you?"

"Listen, you are the one who got me into this, and you agreed to my terms, so. . . shush."

"Fair enough." He sets everything down by the sofa and grabs his keys on the way to the door.

"Oh, you should take your wallet too." Mindy's got her thumbnail shoved in her mouth. "I may have forgotten to pay the driver."

* * *

It doesn't take long. But even in the short amount of time it takes Danny to make it back upstairs, twenty dollars poorer and with all the rest of her things, his apartment looks noticeably different. There are colorful throw pillows and magazines placed haphazardly. And Mindy's nowhere to be seen.

He leaves everything by the door, unsure what all there is and what she intends to do with it, and goes back to what he was doing in the kitchen before she got here. After five days of debating what to make, Danny decided to go with a recipe he's perfected recently. Roman-style chicken with orzo and a spring salad. There was a moment where he considered making the homemade bolognese that takes all day to simmer. It was Christina's favorite. That idea was obviously dismissed immediately with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Danny's julienning bell peppers when Mindy reappears. She's smiling and nearly bouncing on her toes, having way too much fun cluttering his home. Still. It's infectious and he can't help smiling back when she peers around him to see what he's doing. "You want wine?" he asks.

"Mm, yes please." She pushes herself up onto the counter.

There are five bottles of the Malbec he knows she likes best tucked into the wine rack of the bar. Clearly they're not all for tonight, but he's learned spending time with Mindy these last few months it's a good idea to have at least one bottle of red on hand just in case.

He pours them both a healthy glass, and when he rounds the counter he notices for the first time how she looks. Mindy's ankles are crossed, and she's gently swinging her bare feet, her heel bouncing off the base-cabinet. The dress she's wearing has flowers on it and hugs every curve in a distractingly perfect way. She looks effortlessly sexy and completely comfortable.

Mindy looks at home here, and it does something to relax the dread that's slowly been building in his chest all day.

Her fingers brush his when she takes the glass from him, and he has to suppress the completely irrational urge to kiss her cheek. "So what all do you have left?" He gestures to the stack of things still by the door.

"Ah! That would be shoes, some photos, the rest of my clothes, and some bathroom stuff."

Danny takes a long sip of his wine before picking up the chef's knife again. "You are actually planning on leaving, right?"

"We'll see. Depends on if you play your cards right tonight, hubby." His head shoots in her direction in time to see her burying a cheeky smile in her glass. "You have to think these things through, Danny."

"What things?"

"Christina's intentions while she's here."

"She said. It's for closure. Which isn't actually a thing, but if it ends this for good then it's worth it."

"That may be part of it. I won't say it isn't. But you get that isn't the main reason she wants to come here, right?" He shrugs. "She's coming here to scope out her replacement. She wants to see if this is real. If you're happy. So that's what we're going to give her."

There's a part of him that's afraid to ask. He does anyway. "How do we do that?"

"I'm glad you asked!" She hops down off the counter. "First, we set the scene. A happy, combined home, right? Christina will never believe it if she came in here and this place looked like it normally does."

"What's wrong with how my apartment looks?"

"Nothing. You actually have surprisingly good taste."

"You mean that to sound nice, but you get how it's an insult, right?"

The correction doesn't even slow her down. "It's just too masculine. No way would she believe a woman lives here. That's where the pillows and things come in. It isn't much, but if she questions it we'll just say it's because we haven't been married long."

"Okay." He hadn't really thought past what they were going to eat. Guess it's a good thing she did.

"Which actually brings me to the most important part of making this work." She hesitates and with his back to her he can hear her take a drink and then set her glass down on the counter, taking a step closer to him. "Christina is never going to believe we're together if there isn't at least a little bit of . . . affection."

The knife falters in Danny's hand. He doesn't look at her. "Affection. Yeah."

"Hey." Her hand slips over his wrist and he places the knife on the cutting board. He can't ignore facing her anymore. "Are you going to be okay with this?"

Mindy's regarding him in a way that makes him feel like she thinks he's too damaged to handle this - and maybe he is - but it irritates him enough to want to prove her wrong.

He turns, flipping his hand over so he's holding her wrist too, and brings his free hand up to cup her face. Danny brushes his thumb up her cheekbone, and speaks low, looking deep into her brown eyes. "You know, I can be affectionate, Mindy."

It isn't his imagination that her breath hitches. He can feel the muscles in her jaw clench as she swallows. Danny sweeps his thumb back down, and her eyes follow that lead. She's staring at his mouth, and it spreads satisfaction warmly through him. It's nice to know he has the ability to affect her the same way she does him.

"See?" He buries his fingers a little further into her hair. Leaning forward, Danny pecks a light kiss on her forehead before releasing her altogether and turning his attention back to the colorful peppers in front of him. "That won't be a problem. What else?"

"Hmm?"

"You said there were several things we had to do to sell this. What else is there?"

"Oh. Personal items. If she has the opportunity, Christina will definitely check out as much of that as possible. There has to be stuff of mine in your closet, things on the nightstand, and the bathroom is especially important."

"Why the bathroom?"

"Because the bathroom is where this whole thing can fall apart. If you have a woman living with you the bathroom will hold the most evidence. There has to be an extra toothbrush, makeup, a blow dryer, brushes, tampons, lotion-"

"You stocked my bathroom with tampons?"

"Yes. And I'm actually planning on leaving those here. You never know when you might have a guest start her period, Danny. It's considerate to have supplies."

Danny scrapes the last pepper from the cutting board into a bowl and grabs the pancetta to begin cubing it. "I don't like that. But it isn't a bad point."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. What does it matter what my bathroom looks like? There's no reason for her to go in there."

"You're right! And that's what makes it brilliant!"

She's doing that bouncy thing on her toes again, and it's ridiculous how pleased she is with the amount of nonsensical planning she's put into this.

"Because there isn't any reason for her to go in there," she continues. "And yet she will find a way. Which is why us leading with there being an issue with the guest bath is a stroke of genius! It's the most confidant move possible. We're giving her permission to snoop!"

"Or we could just be normal and have her use the perfectly operational guest bathroom."

"I seriously feel like you haven't understood anything I've just said to you. Trust me, Danny. I know women. And I know being a jealous ex. This is the way to go if you want to get this woman back out of your life for good."

"Fine. I'll trust that you know what you're doing. But you may want to hurry doing it. She'll be here in about a half an hour."

"Oh, you're right." Mindy takes another quick gulp of wine before scurrying over to the collection of things she's deemed necessary to move in.

Danny finishes with the pancetta and throws it into the bowl with the peppers. He pulls out the chicken and everything he needs from the refrigerator to deglaze the pan and make the sauce, then starts the water for the orzo. As he works, he can hear her moving around his personal space. She's humming something, and singing bits of it in spurts as she comes to lyrics she remembers. It's efficiently diverting, taking Danny's mind off the oncoming storm. Mindy's noise is somehow quieting his mind to where he can focus on what he's doing, making sure everything will come out right.

* * *

It takes her less time to place everything than she thought it would. Danny has a huge and gorgeous master bathroom, with a shameful amount of unused cabinet space. By the time she's stuffed everything into its temporary home, the place still doesn't even look cluttered.

Mindy takes a moment to freshen up, which is incredibly convenient since all of her makeup and toiletries are already there. Her hair is pinned back loosely on the sides, leaving the length of it to fall down her back in a few softly-looping curls. It's messy on the left side from where Danny's fingers had threaded in her hair, and she sweeps it back into place and smooths down any flyaways. She's pleased he's committed to this. Even if him touching her freely and like he means it is more distracting than she anticipated. Still, it's better than him being wooden and uncomfortable once Christina gets here.

She isn't sure why, but sticking the point that he's happy and that there's no longer a place for Danny's ex-wife in his life, feels like a task of the utmost importance. This night will be a success if it's the last thing Mindy ever does.

Touching up her brazenly red lipstick, she finishes in the bathroom. Which leaves only the small, framed stack of photos to place.

* * *

"Hey. Pick a record to put on, will you?" Danny asks, never turning from whatever heavenly smelling thing it is he's attending to on the stove.

"Oh, that's a good idea! It will really help set the atmosphere." Mindy walks over and opens the drop-front door to the record cabinet, squatting to be able to see the rows of albums to choose from. Despite there being quite a collection, it doesn't take her long to flip through it. Mostly it's bad '70's rock or surprisingly current hipster-folk bands. The few she's familiar with are the older ones. "Tapestry, Danny? Seriously?"

"What's wrong with Carole King?" He actually sounds offended.

"Nothing's wrong with Carole King. This is a great album. My mom loves Carole King, too. Which is why it's kind of weird."

"It's not weird. It's good music."

"It is. Perfect for a breakup or if you need a little female empowerment." An image pops into Mindy's head and it makes her laugh hard enough to almost lose her balance.

"What?!"

"Nothing," she croaks, trying to catch her breath. "I just very clearly pictured you singing along to Natural Woman." She snorts and has to cover her mouth with her hand to keep it from happening again.

Danny throws a grin over his shoulder. "I'm a better dancer than a singer. But if you really want to hear it..."

He gets the first line out, and she can't take it. "No, don't. Stop." Mindy topples, her butt hitting the floor with a thump, but she's laughing too hard to care. "Danny, you've got to stop or I'm going pee!"

"Come on. It wasn't that bad." He's laughing too as he returns a few things to the fridge. "Why don't you put it on then, and leave the singing to the professional."

"Mm, I would. But this is the wrong kind of music for this dinner."

"What's wrong with it?"

"It's too intense. We need something a little more peppy."

"Whatever makes you happy, sweetheart."

"Ohh, that's very good, Danny. You are making an excellent pretend husband." Mindy goes back to leafing through the rack and almost immediately finds the perfect one. She pulls herself up, album in hand.

Lifting the lid to the mid-century modern teak cabinet, she finds it housing not a relic, but a new and brightly shining Audio-Technica turntable. He may not have great taste in music, but Danny's taste in vintage furniture and high-end electronics is impressive. She seats the record and places the needle in the furthest groove, then flips the on switch. Immediately warm soul begins emanating from some hidden surround sound speakers.

"Al Green?! How is this more 'dinner with the ex' appropriate?"

Mindy rounds the island and picks up the wine glass she left there earlier. "It's cheerful."

"It's romantic." Danny gestures with the wooden spoon in his hand before he realizes it's dripping.

"Yes. And we're very much in love. Remember?"

He cuts his eyes to her before going back to intently stirring, the argument dying on his lips. "Right."

She takes the last sip of wine left in her glass and scans the scene before her with a critical eye. Everything looks warm, and not too terribly out of place. Danny looks nice; casual and as relaxed as he can be in this situation. He's wearing blue jeans and a soft looking blue-grey button-down with the cuffs rolled up. From the best she can tell dinner looks nearly ready and smells divine, and there really isn't anything else for her to do but wait.

Mindy grabs the open wine bottle and refills her glass before topping Danny's off without asking.

"Thanks." He picks up the glass with his left hand while he is still stirring the sauce. She stands by his elbow, starting to feel antsy with nothing to do.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Um." He taps the utensil against the edge of the pan before placing it on a metal spoon-rest and looking around him. "Yes, actually."

Grabbing a dishtowel, he pulls a small colander filled with freshly rinsed strawberries from the sink and sets them on the counter. From a drawer he pulls out a cutting board and a small paring knife, and places them in front of her. "Will you slice these for the salad?"

"Sure." She delicately severs the green top off of one before stopping to turn back around to him. "You're putting strawberries in the salad?"

Using tongs, he's nestling golden brown pieces of chicken back into the pan. "Trust me. Spinach salad, strawberries, toasted walnuts, goat cheese, and a homemade honey vinaigrette. It's delicious."

"Okay. That does sound pretty good." She's slicing the top off the second strawberry when there's a knock at the door. They turn to each other, Danny's eyes wide, and it's time to get this show on the road. He takes one step toward the entryway and she stops him, grabbing his hand. "Wait."

"What?" He looks slightly panicked, and it forces her to be calm.

"We've got this," she says, before wrapping her arm around his neck and pulling him down slightly to hug him. When she pulls away there's a smudge of her red lipstick at his jaw. She rubs her fingertips against the hard line of tendon and bone before stopping abruptly. The mark of her lips on him is one perfect addition Mindy wishes she would have thought of on her own. "Finish what you were doing. I'll get the door."

She takes a deep breath and opens Danny's front door with an unwavering hand. Christina is standing tall and ramrod straight on the other side, clutching a bottle of wine and looking just ill at ease enough to make Mindy feel better about having to be gracious.

"Christina." Placing the warmest smile on her face she can force, she reaches out and lays a light hand on the woman's elbow, ushering her inside. "Welcome to our home. Please come in."

"Thank you. It's nice to see you again."

"May I take your-" Christina's wearing a white, tuxedo-pleated shirt, with the buttons fastened all the way to her neck, crisp black trousers, and a pair of very expensive looking knock-off stilettos. No jacket. No purse. Who the fuck doesn't carry a purse? "-your wine?"

"Oh. Yes." She laughs a bit nervously. "It's for you. I wasn't sure what you like. I figure you can never go wrong with something French and red."

"That's true. And very considerate of you. We actually have a bottle of Malbec open if you'd like a glass. Or I think there's some white open in the fridge. We were just finishing up dinner."

"A glass of the Malbec would be lovely. Thank you." She can't help watching Danny closely as Christina follows her to the kitchen. He's very intently squeezing lemon juice over the colorful serving bowl of orzo.

Mindy grabs the appropriate stemware and empties the bottle into it.

"Hello, Danny. It's good to see you."

He takes a deep breath and finally looks up when she addresses him. "Hey."

It's all he can muster and even that sounds strained. Mindy tries not to cringe at the ever increasing awkwardness and hands Christina her glass. "Dinner smells wonderful. What are we having?"

"It's something new. You've never had it before." Danny takes a long drink before setting the glass down hard and turning back toward the stove.

"Oh, good. You didn't used to drink red wine very often, but I didn't think beer was appropriate." She's rambling. "I'd hoped Mindy would like it, but that's - that's good."

"It was very thoughtful," Mindy interjects, needing to change the current of this conversation. "I'm sure we'll enjoy it. Won't we, honey?"

"Yeah, sure," he answers. "You get that on one of your many trips abroad, changing the world one picture at a time?"

"Actually, no. Bordeaux isn't particularly war-torn at the moment. I got it at the Trader Joe's on the corner. It was buy one get one half off. I'm thinking now maybe I should have bought two."

Danny's ears are tingeing pink, and Mindy races to regain the reins on this before he blows up. "So, Christina. Where all do you travel for your photography?"

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "Where's the restroom? I'd like to wash up before we eat."

Mindy breathes a tiny sigh of relief. "The powder room is unfortunately having some plumbing issues at the moment. You can use our bathroom. It's through the double-doors."

She waits until Christina is out of sight before saying anything, and when she does, Mindy's voice is a harsh whisper. "What the hell is the matter with you? You're supposed to be rubbing your happiness in her face, not acting like a sullen child. You're ruining this whole thing."

When Danny turns to her his face is still red, but his expression is one crumpled with defeat, and it twists her stomach in a knot. "I don't think I can do this, Min."

"Yes, you can." He starts to turn away and she can't help reaching out, grabbing his shoulder and making him look at her. "Yes, you can. But you don't have to. Say the word and I'll take pleasure in tossing her bony ass out as soon as she's done pilfering the bathroom."

Danny shifts on his feet and doesn't look any more relieved. She continues, "Or, or, you can pull it together and we'll get through this."

He's looking down at the floor, and it's a surprise when she feels his fingers lightly brush her waist. "What do you think I should do?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable doing. But Danny - Hey. Look at me." His eyes leap to hers at the command. "You can do this. You just have to remember you're not doing it alone."

"Yeah. I know."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Well then do something about it. Make her so jealous of how happy and in love you are, and what a great marriage you finally have, that she'll never darken your door again." The bluesy guitar and organ melody of Love and Happiness is bleeding through the sound system, and Mindy sways closer, into his touch.

He gets it when she slides her arm around his neck, and a reluctant smile pulls up his lips as he counters her halting dance moves with his own, much smoother ones. Danny grabs her right hand and spins her out toward the sink and back, and Mindy can't help the laugh that bubbles out. "See? Do this right, Danny, and you may end up having a really fun time tonight."

"Well it won't be dull, that's for sure." Mindy shrieks when he dips her, expertly bending her so low the ends of her hair brush the floor before pulling her back to him. She's breathless with it and the sudden lightness filling her chest.

It's so distracting that she didn't notice Christina walk out of the bedroom. Mindy can see her just barely out of the corner of her eye standing by the piano. Feeling the relaxed slope of his shoulders, she's sure Danny doesn't realize she's there.

Cinching her arm tighter, she presses against him, the friendly distance between them evaporating. She can feel the shocked puff of breath escape him as Mindy touches the hair at the back of his neck. Just as the hilariously apropos first lines of Let's Stay Together begin to play, she whispers in his ear, "We have an audience."

She's proud that despite how his body stiffens, he doesn't stop dancing. He draws their clasped hands to his chest, and rocks them in time with the music. They stay that way for a few seconds, and with every one the tension is returning more to his shoulders. She gives him an encouraging squeeze.

Then, very much to her surprise, Danny brushes her hair back and touches his lips to her skin. Starting just under her ear, he places a row of three lingering kisses down her neck. It makes her shiver.

"Thanks," he murmurs before pulling away. "Now finish slicing the strawberries."


End file.
